


To Make a House a Home

by Anonymous



Series: Making Home [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Minecraft, Angst, Astraphobia, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Needs A Hug, Fear of Abandonment, Fix-It, Found Family, Fundy needs a hug, Hurt/Comfort, Nobody stays dead, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Potatoes, Techno has adhd, Temporary Character Death, Tommyinnit needs a hug, Touch-Starved, Traitor!Niki, Violent Rebellion, Wilbur Soot Needs a Hug, evil schlatt, for now at least, l'manburg, sleepy bois inc - Freeform, technoblade needs a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:22:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 29,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27553795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: The election is lost. Living in a ravine under a dirt shack in the middle of the woods is a depressed ex-president, his sword wielding kid brother, and a pink-haired guy with very questionable self care skills. Somehow, they'll turn that ravine into home.
Relationships: Lots of familial relationships though, Nothing romantic, Sleepy Bois Family - Relationship
Series: Making Home [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2081847
Comments: 100
Kudos: 905
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Chapter 1

Wilbur didn’t think he remembered how to breathe. Schlatt’s furious voice filled the air but all he heard was the word “revoked” bouncing around in his skull, hands shaking a little desperately as he reached out to grab Tommy’s hand, shoving the smaller boy in front of him as he ran. “Run! Tommy, fucking RUN!” He can hear the footsteps following him as he fumbles with his belt, downing the foul-tasting invisibility potion in seconds and bolting after where he...really hopes Tommy is. 

He isn’t sure how long he runs for. His feet throb under him and he can hear Tommy’s high-pitched, terrified voice behind him. He thought of Fundy, of Tubbo, of Niki, for just a moment before he forced the thoughts down and skidded to a halt panting in the middle of fucking nowhere. Tommy’s laboured breathing filled the air a few moments later; the invisibility still hadn’t worn off but he could hear Tommy’s soft sobs filling the air and he stepped forward, wrapping his long arms around his younger brother and feeling his tears soak his jacket.

“We’ve got to go” “I know” He turns back, dark eyes catching on the edge of the flag about the city and he can’t stop the sob that makes it out. He can imagine Tommy’s expression but he turns away, forces his eyes off of the flag. He’s the older one, he has to be strong, he can’t break. Not here, not now. “Wilbur, your own son just betrayed you!” He resisted the urge to snap; this wasn’t Tommy’s fault and he knew it but it didn’t stop him from wanting to murder something, at this moment quite possibly Fundy.

“We gave up everything for L’Manburg.” “And we’ve lost it.” His feet are bloody by the time they slow; these boots are a bit more decorative than they are marathon running shoes. They’re both very not invisible, now; Tommy is standing red-eyed and shaky at his side and he has no, no, no idea what to do. They carve out a tiny spot to sleep, pressed shoulder to shoulder listening to the sounds of the wind in the trees above and the growl of creatures that sound far too close for comfort. 

Wilbur wakes to the sun shining through cracks in the wood that they’d crammed into the entryway of their hole. Tommy is awake already, sitting against the wall, eyes dark and upset and  _ hurting  _ and for the first time in a long time Wilbur has absolutely, positively no plan. “I want Tubbo.” “I know. I...I’m sorry Tommy. I failed us.” Tommy spins, eyes widening a little and Wilbur finds himself taking a step back because Tommy looks  _ pissed.  _ “It’s not your fucking fault, don’t you fucking blame yourself you fucking idiot.” It’s not comforting, not really at all, but it’s so  _ Tommy  _ that he manages a weak smile. “We have to keep moving, this is too close. We need a new home.” 

His feet are on fire and he doesn’t think he slept, not really, but the forest is quiet around them and that’s something. He has to go back, has to see the wall and so he just...walks off,ignoring the blood in his boots and the tremor in Tommy’s hands and walks. That wall, months of work and blood and sweat and tears, falling under the hands of one of the people he trusted most in the world was enough to shatter any remnants of heart that he had left. 

Tommy knew Wilbur was hurting. He was shaking, usually bright eyes dull and empty as he stared out at the walls, at  _ Fundy  _ taking the walls down, clearly forcing down tears. He can see the precise moment that Wilbur  _ breaks,  _ tears running silently down his face as he shakes “I’m so sorry, Wilbur” “M...my great unfinished symphony” he sobs, turning away and slowly walking back towards the hole looking far more ready to jump into a pit of lava than Tommy was generally comfortable with.

Wilbur isn’t sure when he reached the hole again. Tommy is at his side, babbling something about zombies and ender chests and wool or...something. He slumps down, buries his head in his knees with a broken sob. Tommy is crying again, tears running down his face as he presses himself against his brother’s side. “M not sure we can do this, Will” “We don’t have a choice” He turns to stare up at the sky, the stars winking down through the hole in the door at them. “We need to stay alive” “We’ll stay alive.” 

Tommy doesn’t sleep. Wilbur does; he all but passes out on Tommy’s shoulder, fingers tangled in his coat as if he thinks Tommy will be torn away from him. It’s not the most unreasonable thought and so he lets his brother sleep, listening intently for any creepers, or Tubbo or someone coming to murder them, sword tight in his free hand. “We’re gonna get it back.” he swears, even if the moon is the only thing that can hear him. “We’re going to come back, L’Manburg. I promise.” 

Tommy is dozing, the moon setting above him, when he hears it. A very loud crack of twigs, then a second, then the sound of someone falling into the hole the horse is tied in. He and Wilbur are both on their feet in a moment, Will grabbing a torch as Tommy grabs his sword. “It might be nothing” Wilbur points out as he steps outside, torch raising a little until it catches on the edge of the pit. Unable to see in, they both take a few more steps, and then they see the figure hunched in the bottom of their horse pit, bright pink hair shifting as the dark eyes raise to stare at them and in that moment neither of them has any idea what to do. 

“Did Schlatt send you?” Wilbur asks aloud, raising his voice slightly. The figure blinks, tilts his head. “I don’t know who that is” “I don’t believe you” “...I’m sorry?” Wilbur sighs, taking a step closer. He crouches down, offering a hand to help pull the other man out, sighing in relief when he isn’t immediately pulled into the pit and stabbed mercilessly. “How the fuck did you find us?” “I didn’t mean to stumble on your secret base, man, I just fell in the hole you’re keeping your horse in which is right outside your door. Isn’t that a health hazard?” 

Wilbur takes in the man before him. He’s wearing a dirty jacket, bright pink hair standing out in the torchlight. He’s shivering in the chill air, but what gets Wilbur’s attention is the way that he’s standing very still even as Tommy grips his axe, like he’s just  _ waiting  _ for Tommy to kill him. “What’s your name?” “Technoblade” “The fuck kind of name is that?” Tommy shouts, and both Wilbur and Techno flinch a little. “Mine?” 

“Wilbur, team meeting.” Tommy hauls him up onto the top of their little hill, where they can still watch the man. “What do you think, do we kill him?” “I don’t recognize him, I don’t...maybe he isn’t lying. Maybe Schaltt didn’t send him. He doesn’t even have armor it’s not like he could murder us both easily but I don’t trust him. Tommy sighs, staring up at the sun which is just starting to rise. “I don’t fucking like this either Wilbur I mean fuck, I want to be HOME, with Tubbo and Fundy and our friends. But we fucking need friends out here.” 

Tommy takes the lead, clambering down to where the other man is waiting silently by the opening to their hole. “Do you  _ want  _ to stay?” “Do I look like a man who would say no to sleeping in a random hole in the woods with people who apparently have people being sent to murder them?” Wilbur shrugs. “We’re trying to stage a violent revolution to take back our city?” Techno blinks, then nods. “...Yeah, ok. I’m in.” 


	2. Making Home Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of chapter one! Still open for oneshot ideas, pleeease comment because I will run out of ideas quickly otherwise Lol.

Technoblade isn’t sure how this happened. One moment he was walking through the forest and then he was  _ falling,  _ pain exploding in his leg and then there was a torch and a sword in his face and two angry people talking over each other and...they were just  _ kids.  _ Well, he had never been good at ages, but the one with a sword in hand was definitely in his opinion a child while the other seemed a little older. He wasn’t entirely sure why he’d agreed to stay, since it seemed like they’d be willing to let him go and he could’ve just kept going, but something aching in his chest caused him to hesitate.  _ I wouldn’t get far on this ankle, anyway; I’ll heal up and then I’ll be gone,  _ he decides mentally.

They show him the base. For apparently a group of rebels trying to overthrow their government, or past government? He’s a little unclear on the whole situation as he walks down the stairs, pain searing up his entire leg. “So, this is it. We need to make a farm, and then we need weapons. Also armor. And a plan.” He finds himself nodding along as the other two, who had finally introduced themselves as Wilbur and Tommy, show him around their “home.” 

It’s depressingly bare. He wanders over to the chests, brightening immediately when he finds potatoes. “I can plant these” “You can?” “Yes” Wilbur shrugs. “Okay then.” Tommy yawns, wandering off to one of the little mini caves to sleep, Wilbur a few steps behind him. “We’re keeping an eye on you” Techno nods, tucking the potatoes into his bag and going to get some dirt. It’s going to be a long night. 

He isn’t sure how long he works for. He plants potato after potato after potato, spending the time between plantings chasing down chickens and corralling cows. He’s almost certain that he’d broken something, but he focused on the jobs and the soil in his fingers and the fact that for a reason he didn’t understand like, at all, he wanted them to let him stay. 

He heard, before he saw, Wilbur awaken. The slightly taller man looked a little calmer now, changed out of his...uniform? It sure looked like a uniform, to Techno, into a much more comfortable looking coat. He was limping a little but Techno was pretty sure that he didn’t get to comment on anyone else’s physical state; his leg was a column of fire and pain was searing up from his ankle to his hip.

“Good morning” “Good morning, Technoblade” Wilbur looked rested, at least, tilting his head at the new person who he had honestly thought would be gone or try to kill them in the night. “So how’s the farming?” Techno brightens a little, and Wilbur watches him slowly walk down the hall towards the farm. The tall man’s gait is very careful, each step purposeful, and Wilbur wonders if he should question it but he doesn’t really want to.

He was...concerned at how big the farm was and his concern only grew when the man showed him the pen of wild cows he’d captured. “How long have you been up?” He questioned, pretty sure that he knew what the answer would be when the other man just sorta shrugged and titled his head. “You told me to farm” he grunts, and Wilbur sighs. “I’m...ok. I’m gonna work on making this safer.” 

He gets to work on some bridges across the chasms, as Tommy comes out of their ‘room’ to grab two baked potatoes then vanishes outside saying something about sheep. Techno is still limping, coming down from where he’d been feeding the cows or something. Wilbur had  _ no  _ idea why they even had cows but they did so...cows. 

“Hey Techno? Can you hold this while I nail it in?” It takes a moment for the words to filter in but he thinks he must’ve nodded because Wilbur steps back and beckons for him to hold the planks up. He shifts a little, tightening his grip. “Techno, step forward, we’re not in the right spot.” He decides later to blame his complete exhaustion for him forgetting that putting his weight on his right leg was a bad idea because he stepped forward, leg crumbling under him and sending him into Wilbur. 

Wilbur, to his credit, managed to tilt back enough that the two of them flopped onto the stairs behind them instead of down into the ravine. “What the HELL man!” Wilbur blinked, turning to glare at the other man when he saw the pink-haired figure shaking, curled defensively. “...fuck, you’re hurt. TO-” his yell is cut off by Tommy appearing on the top of the stairs, sword in hand. 

“I hurt a scream, what happened?” “Nothing, this fucking moron just almost fell to his death.” Wilbur grunts, slipping his arm under Techno’s and hauling him up with him, ignoring the other man flinching away from him. “Get the medical kit?” Tommy, for once, doesn’t question it as Wilbur scoots back so he can get down the stairs.

He knows he fucked up. He watched silently as Wilbur reached for his leg, unable to bite down on a howl of pain. “Easy, c'mon let’s get you downstairs and sitting down.” “...I’m sorry.” The curly-haired man tilted his head in confusion, wrapping Techno’s unresisting arm around his shoulder and hauling him up with him. “The fuck are you sorry for?” 

He doesn’t respond, stumbling forward as Wilbur slowly maneuvered them down to his and Tommy’s room. “...I don’t want to mess up your bed” “I really don’t give a shit, sit down and let me look at your goddamn leg.” Tommy calls from his spot digging around in one of the crates in the corner of the room. Wilbur kneels, probably to get the weight off his feet, and works Techno’s boot off and pants up, hissing when he sees the horrifically purple bruises stretching from Techno’s foot to half-way up his leg. 

“...ok, don’t get up, that’s DEFINITELY broken” “...Thanks, I didn’t realize.” Techno mutters, propping himself up on an elbow. “I. I can go I’m sorry.” Wilbur blinks, tilting his head. “We aren’t SCHLATT we aren’t gonna toss you out just ‘cause you’re hurt that’s fucking stupid. We aren’t assholes. Much” Tommy is back, apparently, kneeling down to press a freezing cold cloth to his swollen leg. 

“I think you’re gonna need a bigger cloth” for a moment he thinks he’s overstepped but Tommy bursts into laughter. “Yeah fuck you too man, Will tell me what we need for potions, yeah? That’s not gonna heal well on it's own.” Wilbur rattles off a list of ingredients and Tommy heads for the lower areas of the ravine, pausing to look back at Techno. “Hey, you better fucking still be here when I get back.” 

Wilbur splints his leg and does not look him in the eyes the whole time. “Please don’t hide potentially crippling injuries, alright? I know I wasn’t...super thrilled with you staying yesterday but I can see your dedication ok man? We don’t need you to run yourself into the ground for us.” Techno gives him a deeply unimpressed look and asks, very deliberately, “How are your feet, then?”

“How the fuck?” “You haven’t stopped limping since I met you. On both legs. Take your boots off.” Wilbur doesn’t _want_ to but since he’d basically forced Techno to let him deal with his leg, it felt unfair to say no as he strips off his bloodied boots and socks, reaching for the sponge so he can wash the blood off before bandaging them. “Tommy is right, you know?” Techno tilts his head, a question on his face.   
  
“We’re not gonna make you leave. You’re stuck with us now, Tommy would be sad and i don’t like things that make Tommy sad. So don’t fucking work yourself to death, alright. Budge over” Wilbur flops down onto the other half of the bed so he can lean against the stone wall and wrap his legs. “Owww fuck.” “did you walk over swords?” Wilbur snickers. “Nah, these just aren’t shoes for running and we ran a lot. Tommy seems ok, though.” “Maybe he’s just a better liar than you.” 

Since getting up would make it difficult to tell Techno to stay the fuck in bed, Wilbur reaches over for his guitar, one of the few things he’d had when he’d run, and starts to play. He’s three songs in when he glance to his left and sees that the pink-haired man’s eyes are closed and his breathing is even. He reaches out, flicks a blanket over the man’s shoulders to knees so his injury is still accessible, and starts to play again. 


	3. Making Home Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Techno gets a sword, and kills a lot of zombies. And his own mental health.

Six days after his arrival, he wakes to the sound of yelling. He’s on his feet in a moment, reaching for the sword that Tommy had made him the day before and all but bolting for the narrow staircase that leads up. Half-way up he bumps into Wilbur, who is on the way down, eyes wide with terror. “There’s like a million zombies up there dude, stay down here.” 

Wilbur ducks past him, probably to go tell Tommy to stay the hell away from the door, and Techno feels a surge or protectiveness. He tightens his grip on his sword and continues up the stairs, stepping out to see the  _ hoard  _ of zombies facing him and lunging into battle.

Tommy didn’t  _ mean  _ to disobey Wilbur’s all-but-an-order to stay down where it was safer. Well, he did, but if anyone asked he’d definitely be lying. He crept closer, pausing as he heard the familiar sound of sword striking flesh and decided that he could definitely say he was double checking that it wasn’t someone in need of help, right?   
  


Someone had once told Tommy that a good enough fighter could make fighting look like a dance. He’d never really believed that; he and Wilbur both fought with the same resigned determination of people who were not going to let today be their last. But as he peaked up over the edge of the staircase, watching the moonlight catch the tall figure standing just outside their doorway, he could believe that this man was almost dancing.

He made it look so  _ easy,  _ destroying zombie after zombie with devastating accuracy. In a matter of what felt like seconds the ground was littered with corpses and the man stood motionless, sword in his hands. The world stood still for a heartbeat before he turned and Tommy met the pale pink eyes, his own widening slightly. 

“DUDE that was fucking EPIC” Techno tilts his head, waiting a long moment for another comment but none comes. “...thank you?” He offers questioningly, lowering his bloodied sword and stepping around the dissolving zombie corpses, hesitating before the doorway but then Tommy is grabbing his arm and dragging him down the stairs shouting “WILBUR! WILBUR!” 

Wilbur steps back out of their room, giving Tommy a  _ look.  _ “Tommy, please stop yelling before even more zombies show up?” Tommy grins, scrambling to a stop in front of his older brother, still gripping Techno’s arm. “Nope, they’re dead.” “...I’m sorry?” Tommy grinned, eyes wide and delighted. “Techno killed ‘em all. Rekilled, I guess, cause they’re already fucking dead.” 

Wilbur blinked, turning to look at Techno who gave a small nod. “Why didn’t you tell us you could fight?” He shrugs, pink hair falling into his face as he shifts on his feet. “Cause this was funnier?” He offers, and Wilbur gives him an unimpressed look. “That’s good to know at least, we’ll have to make you a better sword.” Tommy gives a disgruntled shout and Wilbur rolls his eyes. 

“It's a fine sword!” “Tommy you made it in an hour, it’s really probably not.” Tommy grumbles under his breath, flopping down on the bed with a growl of annoyance, looking more than a little disappointed. Techno shifted uncomfortably on his heels, suddenly feeling deeply uncomfortable. “I’m. Gonna go to bed, then, since we aren’t about to be eaten in our sleep.” 

  
  


He wakes up to Tommy shouting. That’s not really a rare occurrence; Tommy has a deeply, deeply annoying love for waking him and Wilbur up by shouting loudly after he was awake and was bored enough to do so. “GUYS. BREAKFAST. GET UP.” Techno groans, already hauling himself out of bed and, after considering for a moment, hanging the sword sheath on his hip, feeling a bit of comfort knowing he has the sword that close at hand if he needs it. 

He wanders out to find Tommy had actually made edible breakfast; he had cooked up some of the potatoes and beef. It wasn’t the most flavorful thing in the world but it was food and Technoblade was not picky so he, as he always did, cleaned his plate and turned down seconds, leaning back against the wall and hiding a tiny grin at Wilbur’s efforts to eat his entire plate. Wilbur was definitely a picky eater, a luxury that Techno was acutely aware he’d never had. 

“So, Techno!” Tommy is grinning in a way that is a little concerning. “...Yes?” “Are you busy today?” Techno gives him a  _ look  _ like, _ we live together in this ravine the hell am I doing with my day do you think?  _ “Sooo can you teach me to fight?” Techno considered, glancing over at Wilbur cautiously but the older man was just...watching. “Uhh..sure? I guess? I’m probably not that much better than you, though.” He warns, starting slowly up the staircase because grass seems better to fight on then

Tommy squares off against him. They both pick up wooden swords, Techno taking a moment to weigh the blade in his hand and do a practice swing or two. It’s been a very long time since he’s fought for something other than damage. Tommy  _ grins,  _ eagerly, and takes a step forward, sword coming towards his friend’s shoulder. Techno rolls out of the way, using his sword to catch Tommy’s shoulder and sending him into the ground in one smooth move.

For a moment he just crouches there panting, sure that he’s about to be yelled at for beating Tommy so easily but then Tommy is in his face, still grinning widely. “Dude! You’re fuckin’ awesome! Can we go again?” Techno gives a nervous nod, tossing the younger boy his sword and taking a step back, raising his weapon again.

He wins twenty-three rounds in a row before Tommy asks for a break. Wilbur is watching, sitting under a tree next to the grassy area where they had chosen to spar. “Techno?” “Wilbur?” “Do you need a break or do I get a turn?” Wilbur grins and Techno stands again, reaching for his sword. Wilbur is taller and Techno has seen him kill a few mobs, so he knows the other man can fight, but he also knows that he’s much, much better.

It’s slightly harder to beat Wilbur. He’s taller and bulkier which makes manipulating him harder. He’s also a smarter fighter, he doesn’t just charge in twenty-four rounds in a row. He goes for Techno’s legs, but he neatly dodges the strike, moving briskly back a few steps. He’s keeping an eye on Tommy; he doesn’t quite trust them not to double team him, especially when one of them is behind him. 

Wilbur is panting as Techno pins him for...he thinks it’s something like the fifteenth time in a row. Wilbur considers himself a reasonably solid fighter; he knows he’s no Dream, but he’s good enough with a sword and he can hold his own against most people. 

He has yet to last more than fifteen seconds against Technoblade. He can see why Tommy had been so impressed the night before; Techno was not just beating him but making it look incredibly, ludicrously easy. The man barely looked winded as he helped Wilbur up, offering him his sword, but Wilbur shakes his head with a gasp. “Gotta get some breath back.” He wanders over to flop down near Tommy and after a moment of hesitation Techno follows.

Tommy is grinning tiredly, already insisting that Techno teach him how to fight better. Techno isn’t wildly sure about that one but he knows Tommy won’t stop bugging him until he agrees so he suspects he’ll end up training the teen. He doesn’t mind; Tommy is, for all his habits of being very loud and wild, smart and strong enough to fight well if he stopped trying to just charge into battle without a strategy. 

“Hey Techno?” Wilbur questions as he hauls himself up and goes to check on the cow pen. “Yeah?” How’d you learn to fight?” He pauses, picking up the wooden swords and following Wilbur, petting one of the smaller cows. He knows he doesn’t have to answer; Tommy would probably push but Wilbur wouldn’t make him answer, or at least so far he hadn’t whenever Techno’s background had come up.

“Where I...grew up...we fought a lot.” He shrugs, wills those memories to quiet down and get away from where he has to think about them, get back behind the thick iron doors in the back of his mind. “it...I had to be able to fight. It wasn’t a  _ choice.”  _ Wilbur softens slightly, draping an arm over his shoulder and tugging him back towards the ravine.

He wakes up some time that night to footsteps. He’s reaching for his sword when he hears a soft “Techno?” and relaxes a little because Tommy  _ probably  _ isn’t about to stab him to death. Hopefully. “Bruh, why are you even awake?” He grunts as Tommy takes another step into the room, eyes nervous in the light. “You were...makin’ sounds. I was worried you were having a nightmare.” Techno blinks, taking in his current state; the blankets are tangled around his legs and he realizes after a moment of sluggish internal analysis that he’s trembling a little. Fuck.

“ ‘m fine kid.” “I’m not a kid!” Tommy pouts a little, still hovering in the doorway and Techno sighs. “Come on in dude.” Tommy takes this as a sign to flop down onto the bed and Techno shifts to angle himself to stay closer to the edge of the bed so Tommy can’t make the very dumb decision of boxing him in accidentally. 

“Techno?” “...Yes?” “You...you don’t have to help us learn to fight better if you don’t want to.” Techno blinks, because that wasn’t what he’d expected, turning his pale eyes to the nervous looking boy, opening his mouth to speak but being interrupted by Tommy babbling on nervously. “I, you sounded upset before and I’ve never heard you have a nightmare before! Will does a lot but I’ve never heard you have one.” he shifts nervously and Techno sighs, draping an arm over the smaller boy and tugging him into his side.

“ ‘m bad at. Emotions. So ‘mma say this once, ok?” Tommy had frozen a little but now he gave a slight nod. “You guys are. The closest I’ve ever had to family. Ok? Me havin’ a nightmare wasn’ your fault, kid. And I…” he bites his lip because he really isn’t sure he wants to do this but the kid is so earnestly hopeful and there are people trying to kill them both or something (he really needs to ask Wilbur about that).

“I’ll train you. Ok? Both of you, if your brother wants to.” Tommy brightens at once, grinning widely. “Ok! Thanks, Techno.” He flops back down, curls closer to Techno, who blinks at him in confusion. “...what are you doing?” “goin’ back to sleep.” “...in my bed?” Tommy just mumbles something and snuggles closer to his side. Techno just kind of blinks owlishly down at the boy who is virtually his younger sibling before sighing, draping an arm defensively over him and falling asleep very quickly. 

He wakes up  _ again _ what feel like another hour or so later to Wilbur slipping into the room, sitting down against the wall wrapped in a blanket. The other man blushes when he sees Techno has twisted his head at a deeply uncomfortable angle to give him a  _ look.  _ “Shush, Pink Boy, I wanted to make sure Tommy was ok.” He mutters, and Techno softens slightly because he can’t really tell someone  _ not  _ to worry about the pale, too skinny child tucked against his side. 

“...get up here, Wil.” Wilbur blinks, glancing at him in slight confusion. “You sure?” He isn’t, not really, after years virtually alone being this close to people causes a prickling of discomfort up his spine but this is the closest he has to  _ people  _ and Wilbur looks too small and too lost sitting there on the floor alone. After giving him a moment to change his mind, Wilbur slowly clambers up onto the bed, onto the other side of Tommy. 

Knowing there’s still an exit route behind him soothes some of Techno’s stress and he settles back down, glancing at the sleeping teen and then at Wilbur, who is rapidly on his way to joining him in sleep. He’s surprised by the surge of protectiveness, pressing a little closer to both of them, staying awake until light creeps through the cracks in the rock, silently listening for any danger that would be stupid enough to come hurt his family.


	4. A furry Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Techno wants to eat something that isn't beef. He finds a lot more than he thought he would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to turn this from oneshots to just a normal story and to make another book for my oneshots since I'm now on chapter four of a fic which shows no signs of ceasing to exist. I'll stick the link for the other book here when it's up in like 2 minutes. As always lmk if there's anything you wanna see, and what SMP character should be the next to appear??

He finally sits down to ask Wilbur about who the fuck wants to kill them. Wilbur is sitting sharpening his sword, leaning back against the rocky wall of the ravine. Somewhere further away, probably in the smithing room, he can hear Tommy shouting in annoyance about  _ something  _ in the distance. He’s peeling a potato, because it’s his time to make dinner and he is  _ so, so, so  _ tired of beef and potatoes, he  _ will  _ catch a chicken tomorrow if it kills him. 

“Wilbur?” “Yeah?” Wilbur glances over, hands stilling for a moment. “I uh...I was...wondering if you could...tell me more about the folks who are tryin’ to get you?” Wilbur shrugs, setting down his sword and tangling his hands together with a sigh. “Yeah, ok. I..yeah. Let me tell you the store of L’Manberg, Technoblade.”

Techno, to his credit in WIlbur’s eyes at least, listens. He gets up at one point and paces but that’s just  _ Techno,  _ Wilbur doesn’t exactly blame the guy for his inability to sit still. He paces slowly as Wilbur explains everything; the first war, L’Manberg, the discs, the election. He tells him about Eret, about Tubbo, about Fundy, and if his voice breaks a little as he tells him about his son then Techno doesn’t mention it. He just sort of stands there a little awkwardly before giving a quiet “I am sorry that he’s not here.” “Me too.” 

Techno hesitates, sitting cross-legged across from Wilbur. “Can I...ask another question?” Wilbur gives him a  _ look  _ that Techno doesn’t quite know how to read. “You don’t really have to ask to ask a question dude.” “..ah. Do you think...they’re against you? Or are they just...trying not to die?”

Wilbur seems to consider this for a moment, tilting his head curiously. He settles down, draping his arms around his knees with a small shrug. “I...don’t know. I...I don’t want to let myself hope they’ll be back, y’know? But...we need all the friends we can get. So I hope they’re ok. And that they’re...not against us.” Techno nods, finishing up with the potatoes and beef and glaring at it like the food has personally offended him. “I am getting something that is not a potato or beef tomorrow.” Wilbur gives an appreciative nod and they go back to working in silence.

Techno is ready. He’s going to find a goddamn chicken. Or a lot, a chicken farm doesn’t seem like an awful idea...they could have eggs…eggs are good.

He’s very distracted by thinking about egg recipes to the point that he almost falls into a river. He doesn’t, thankfully, instinctively jerking backwards in time to land on the dirt just next to the river. He considers for a moment before dropping down to the riverbed to see if there was a large fish population or something. 

There wasn’t, at all, so he clambered back up and continued to walk along the river in the search of chickens. He was debating if there was a way to make quiche in a cave when a shout reached his ears from the far side of the river. He paused, unsure for a moment if he had imagined it, but it came again and so he ducked behind a bush. He could still see through but the bush would at least make it harder to see him.

A figure was running rather desperately towards the river. Two more broke the treeline a moment later, raising their crossbows towards the dark-cloaked figure as he tried to jump the river. Techno could  _ hear  _ the moment two of the bolts embedded themselves in the man, hear the thump as he hit the riverbed. The two figures laughed, high-fived, approaching the bank themselves. 

He can’t hear the words, if they say any, and he stays motionless until the hooded figures rise again and turn back to the woods. He waits another minute, then another, knowing that he’s risking them being hidden and watching but very unwilling to not at least check who it was running from their enemy’s lands. He slid down the riverbank to where the figure, wrapped entirely up in a dark cloak that was now deeply stained with blood, was shuttering. He crouched, awkwardly sort of nudging the hood back.

He did not expect the fox face that greeted him, eyes glazed and half-closed. He did not expect to all but recognize the man because he had  _ just  _ heard about him the day before. “...Crap. ok.” He fumbles with his belt, suddenly very glad that Wilbur had a rule that no one went out without a health potion, before pausing because he had some experience with arrows and health potions and...oh crap.

“...Please be unconscious.” He crouches, grimacing at how much blood is staining his knees and hands as he breaks the back off both arrows. The man is clearly more than a little out of it but he’s almost certain that this is still going to be felt. “I’m sorry” He means it, too, as he pulls the arrows in one smooth movement, shoving the potion down the smaller figure’s throat. The man gives an agonized scream, thrashing weakly under Techno’s hands but stilling as the worst of the damage slowly repaired. 

“Are you alive?” There is only a tiny, pained groan as an answer but he’s breathing. Techno hesitates, glances towards the far side of the river where home is; he only now realizes two things. One, he is  _ definitely  _ in enemy territory, and two, he needs to get Wilbur’s son home right now, the fact that he might be an enemy be damned. No one is bleeding out in front of him if he can stop it, not again.

“Ok, I hope you’re light” He is, too light, too  _ thin,  _ but it makes it easier for Techno to lift him. The man gives a sharp gasp of pain and a bit of fear, too, as Techno splashes back across the river. “I’m not gonna hurt you, jeez. Would I hurt someone while they’re half dead” he grumbles. 

It’s a long walk back, and he still has no goddamn chickens, but he did at least find two apples. He walks quicker, now, because the man in his arms is still bleeding and definitely needed medical care, and not to be covered in mud. That was just  _ asking  _ for infections and crap and Techno had enough injury experience to know that was not a positive thing to deal with.

“WILBUR” He shouts, raising his voice for once, as he reaches the shack. The figure in his arms twitches a little, glazed eyes flickering fearfully around the hut as Techno slowly started down the stairs. “Unless you want to kill us both please don’t start thrashin’ we  _ will  _ both break our necks” he warns quietly.

Wilbur hasn’t actually appeared yet but Tommy does. “Techno! Did you find chic-” he pauses at the site before him; Techno has a  _ lot  _ of blood on his hands and pants, and he’s holding a figure in a cloak tightly. “Tommy. Get Wilbur. Now.” He grunts and Tommy grimaces. “He went out to mine, man, I dunno where the fuck he is who the hell is that?” 

Techno sighs, but his arms are on fire and he  _ needs  _ to put the man down soon so he gestures for Tommy to pull the hood back. Tommy gives a small, shocked noise. “FUNDY? What the FUCK happened.” 

Tommy is torn between anger and  _ relief.  _ Fundy was family, but he had betrayed them, but now he was beaten and bloody and half dead and that...wasn’t something Tommy wanted, no matter how much Fundy had hurt him by staying. “Ok. Let’s get him stable and then we’ll find Wil, yeah?” He glances down at Fundy who is staring at him like an animal that  _ knows  _ it’s about to die. “We aren’t gonna fucking hurt you you fucking moron, youre Family, remember that.”

Tommy has him bring Fundy into what they’ve apparently decided is a combo of a bathhouse and a medical room since the pond with running water, yay for Wilbur’s ability to get the stream to drain into this pond and the water to be able to easily be drained,made it easy to clean the room up. Fundy doesn’t resist as Techno awkwardly sets him down where Tommy gestures, but he gives a sharp sound when Tommy comes towards him with a knife. “Easy, fox boy, I’m just gettin’ these clothes off you.”

Fundy gives a shake of his head and a low growl and Tommy sighs. “Ok, fine, you fucking moron, Tech can you help me get these off ‘im?” They awkwardly manage to strip the cloak and tunic off the man, revealing two deep, bloody wounds to his chest, the deeper one still oozing blood.

Tommy looked more focused than Techno had ever seen him as he crouched down near Fundy’s side before going to get more healing potions. Fundy hunched in on himself, looking very small, ribs visible through his fur which was dull and stained with blood and dirt. Techno waited until Tommy was back, before going to see if anything felt broken.

Fundy was not a lucky fox, that was what Techno and Tommy had decided. He screamed his way through two more healing potions being applied to his wounds, thrashing weakly as Techno held him down so he couldn’t hurt himself more feeling like a very bad person. “...Tommy why won’t he just pass out?” “I really don’t know, dude, fuck that would be so much easier.” Fundy doesn’t even pass out as Techno expertly stitches the wounds. He doesn’t speak, just lays there staring up at them with dull eyes.

Fundy hears WIlbur first. They can both tell by the way he stills, panic on his face as he tries to awkwardly haul himself away but makes it like, three inches. “Techno, warn him?” Fundy shrinks back a little in confusion, glazed eyes flickering around in confusion. Techno just kind of blinks at Tommy. “..I’m bad at people.” Tommy sighs dramatically and trots out of the room leaving Techno trying to keep Fundy from moving. “If you tear those stitches I won’t be happy. Please let me check your ribs” He grunts gruffly. 

Tommy intercepts Wilbur on the stairs before realizing that he might’ve forgotten something important; his hands were still stained with blood. Wilbur’s eyes widened and before he could open his mouth Tommy babbled “soooo something happened but everything is fine mostly but uhh...Techno ran into someone while he was out.” Wilbur stiffened a little. “Wil, I need to know that you won’t try and stab anything before we talk.” 

Wilbur blinks. “...is it Schlatt?” “GOD NO I WOULD’VE FUCKING KILLED HIM ALREADY” “...ok, then fine.” Wilbur trailed after Tommy, getting even more concerned as they entered the medical room before stilling at the scene before him. Techno was kneeling over a bloodied, emaciated figure who was  _ far  _ too recognizable.

_ “Fundy”  _ Wilbur breathed, dropping to his knees beside the younger man. Techno made a warning sound. “Careful, his ribs are busted.” Techno warns but Wilbur barely hears him, reaching out a hand to brush his fingers through his son’s fur and paling visibly when Fundy flinches hard. Tommy drops back into his spot as Techno finishes proding Fundy’s ribs gently as he can.

“Fundy, what...I don’t…” Wilbur’s eyes are wide but his voice is heartbreakingly soft and Fundy trembles as Techno awkwardly speaks up. “I was lookin’ for a chicken and I heard screaming. Two of them got him trying to jump the river.” I didn’ see who they were.” Fundy trembles a little more, tries to curl up smaller, but Techno makes a low sound. “Don’, kid, you’re gonna fuck up something inside with those ribs.” 

Fundy was shaking just a little, a tremor set in his hands, eyes terrifyingly blank as he stared at the ground. Wilbur really, really just wanted to hug him but he didn’t want to hurt him so instead he sent Tommy over to grab some washcloths with a quiet “please.” Techno stood awkwardly, giving a clumsy “uh. Don’ move, ok? Stay still.” 

And then Fundy is left with just his father. The searing agony of the healing potions has eased but he’s still in more pain than he’s ever felt before, a burning agony in most of his chest that makes him want to just curl up but he can’t. Wilbur is barely looking at him as he grabs a washcloth and starts to gently clean the mud and blood from his filthy fur, each movement so gentle that Fundy felt tears welling in his eyes. 

He blinked hard, willing the tears to go but they just fell harder. Wilbur hadn’t noticed, yet, still working on cleaning as gently as he could around the stitches. Fundy cleared his throat a little, hissing at the wave of pain that caused, before giving a small, broken, “D...dad. ‘M so sorry.” Wilbur turns at once, wishing more than a little that hugging Fundy wouldn’t probably kill him and just pressing a hand to his face instead. 

“Oh hell, kiddo” he breathes, crouching down to rest his forehead against Fundy’s. “I’ve missed you, little one. It’s ok.” Fundy is still crying, silently, and if Wilbur ever finds who made his son learn to cry quietly in the last month he will actually kill them. “Just let me take care of you, ok? We’ll talk when you’re not half dead.” 

An hour later, Tommy and Techno come in with chicken soup. Tommy had REFUSED to put potatoes in it, because he was so done with them, but he’d put carrots and they’d found some wild onion while chicken hunting. Fundy was much less covered in blood, now, propped up against Wilbur. He was pretty much asleep, though he flinched awake when they entered and passed out food.

“Oh thank god, chicken.” Wilbur gives a very happy sound and Tommy grins. “We caught like seven! We have a coop now! We can live on not beef!” Wilbur grinned, eating his own soup for several minutes before realizing Fundy had literally not touched his. “Kid, you gotta eat, you’re a fucking skeleton” Tommy speaks up and Wilbur gives him a look like ‘I’m not sure that’s encouraging.’

Techno is the one with an actual answer, and an already empty soup bowl; it probably hurts to move at all, he’s got like seven broken ribs. He’s on bedrest for a while.” Wilbur is about to set down his own bowl to help Fundy but to his surprise Techno scoots closer first, picks up the spoon, and starts to feed the very exhausted looking fox. It’s not that Techno wasn’t kind, he was in his own way, but  _ people  _ always seemed to make him nervous, even after he’d been with Wilbur and Tommy for a full month.

Fundy was sound asleep by the time the others finished eating. “Techno?” Wilbur questions, softly, and the quiet man glances over. “Thank you. For...for saving him.” Techno nods, looking deeply uncomfortable with the praise. “Want me to get him into a bed?” He questions softly, but Wilbur shakes his head. “Nah, you and Tommy go, I’ve got him.”

Wilbur considers not actually moving, but if seven broken ribs hurt he doesn’t want to make Fundy deal with seven-ish broken ribs and a sore back from the floor so eventually he has to. He stands slowly, pulling Fundy up into his arms with him trying not to jostle him. The man still flinches with a low moan of pain. “P...please.” He whines, and Wilbur stills. “D..d...don’ m’ke me go back.” WIlbur tightened his grip slightly and only kept calm by imagining increasingly bloody methods of murdering Jschlatt, or whoever had hurt his son but he was pretty sure it was that fucking goat man.

“You’ve never gotta go back” he promises, easing the younger figure onto the bed. He hesitated, turning towards the door, but Fundy clung to his sleeve, eyes wide and terrified. “D..don’?” he whispers. Wilbur nods, easing himself onto the bed, between Fundy and the door. “Sleep, son. I’ve got you.” Fundy hums and closes his eyes, and basically passes out at once. Wilbur doesn’t; he stays awake long into the night, shielding the smaller man with his body unwilling to even risk someone coming to hurt them.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter quackity! also a continuation of my inability to actually write people IC so I just emotionally break them! lol. I'm thinking Eret angst next chapter.

Across a river and through the woods, in Manberg, Tubbo couldn’t sleep. He lay curled up under his blankets, listening to Jschlatt rant and scream. He could hear the drunken slur to his words and grimaced, staring up at the dark ceiling. He hadn’t actually thought that Schlatt was yelling at anyone, since usually he was just yelling nonsense these days, but when he heard another voice he stilled.

“Fucking hell” Quackity whispers. He knows he’s never been the smartest person but for someone who had genuinely tried to do the right thing, he didn’t understand how he had fucked up so monumentally to leave this drunk dick in charge of a country and now here he was at two in the morning being screamed at.

“Ok, no.” Tubbo hauls himself out of bed and outside, briskly crossing over to the main building where Schlatt lived. Quackity was back to the wall, hands shaking a little frantically as he looked around, the smell of alcohol hanging in the air as Schlatt ranted about…something. Cats, maybe? Neither Quackity nor Tubbo wasn’t super clear on the topic of the ranting if he was being perfectly honest but it was loud as fuck.

“Sir” Tubbo spoke up and Schlatt swung around to stare at him. He shot Quackity a meaningful look over the man’s shoulder but Quackity just stared at the teen, not really wanting to leave him alone with Schlatt but the teen gestured again and so he turned and slipped away, as Tubbolaunched into an “important” conversation on whether or not they should hold a festival in the near future.

Meanwhile, in a ravine somewhere, Fundy was laying on Wilbur’s bed while Techno checked his ribs. “They’re healin’ good.” He grunts approvingly. “Bit longer an’ you can probably move around more.” Fundy nods, pulling his blanket back over himself. He’d filled out a little over the last two weeks, his fur slowly being coaxed back to the shine it had used to have. Wilbur was curled up on Tommy’s bed, watching; he was not having an easy time not having Fundy in his line of sight.

“Techno?” he swung his gaze to look at Tommy, who gave him a nervous little wave. “I’mma go scout, do you want to come with me?” The taller figure nods, slowly going to grab his sword. “Armor or speed?” he grunts. Tommy considers for a moment before giving a bright “Speed.” Techno nods, leaving behind his heavy armor and heading up the  _ very not safe feeling  _ stairs.

They walked along the river. Tommy bounced along at his side, seeming happier now that Fundy was home and the ravine was slowly becoming  _ home.  _ They had a chicken coop and a cow farm and a  _ wheat  _ farm was slooooowly beginning to work alongside the potato farm. 

“Wait.” Techno heard him first, bringing a hand up to halt the smaller boy who fell silent as Techno pointed to a figure stumbling slowly through the river. “Who is that?” Tommy stood on his tiptoes to look around the tree, blinking. “Oh, that’s  _ Quackity,  _ what the fuck is he doing here?” 

“Do we...approach? Is he dangerous?” Tommy snorts. “He’s not much of a fighter I think we’d be pretty safe but he is the goddamn Vice President so…” 

Techno shrugs, pulling his axe and approaching the river. It takes the other man a moment to see him but when he does his eyes widen slightly. “Who the fuck are you?” he starts to say, before cutting himself off when Tommy slips out after the man. “Tommy! You’re ok?” 

Quackity has always been easy to read. He was loud and eager and he wore his heart on his sleeve and as Tommy stared at him, all he saw was  _ pain.  _ Quackity was twitching nervously, one arm wrapped loosely around himself, eyes flickering skittishly along the bank. 

“Heyyy Tommy, any chance you can just...keep walking?” His voice is smaller than usual and Tommy blinks, looks closer. Quackity is holding himself tightly, his movements are very careful, and he keeps looking over his shoulder like he thinks he’s being chased. “Big Q, what the fuck is going on? Or should it be  _ Mister Vice President.”  _ Quackity flinches hard, and that’s all Tommy needs to see to know something is  _ wrong.  _ “No. Not...not anymore. That’s not, I’m not, that. Anymore.” 

“Dude, either call for people to come arrest us, run, or come  _ talk to us.”  _ Techno speaks up, finally, voice rough and nervous. Quackity slowly splashes to the other side, clambering up onto the bank. “Big Q, what happened.”

Quackity thinks about the White House, burning. He thinks about Schlatt boasting about getting Fundy killed. He thinks about Tubbo and Purpled and Eret, walking the streets looking haunted. He thinks about the election.

“I don’t want to do this anymore, man.” It comes out much closer to pleading than he really wants it to. “I. S….Schlatt tore down the W...w...White House and he’s being awful to Tubbo and Purpled and Eret has been gone for days and it feels like everything’s falling apart and it’s my fault.”

He shutters, curls smaller, tries not to  _ beg  _ Tommy to help, to take him back. He knows this is his fault because it is. He has nothing to offer, nothing to give, and he’s starting to wonder if he ever has. He shook harder for a moment, blinking back tears as he waits for the dismissal, the slap, and...nothing happened. 

He cracked one eye open, cautiously, to see Tommy crouched in front of him, looking  _ worried.  _ “The fuck did Schlatt do to you, Big Q?” “Nothing.” “Yeah, that’s a fucking lie. C’mon.” Tommy stands, offers him a hand, and he takes it slowly. “You’re coming back with us and we’re going to eat potatoes and talk. Ok?” 

He stills, eyes widening slightly. “No, I, Wilbur won’t want to go near me.” “Wilbur will get over himself. C’mon.” Tommy turns and walks back towards Pogtopia, not bothering to look over his shoulder, as if he’s just  _ confident  _ that Quackity will follow and so he does.

Wilbur appears as Techno is brewing tea, awkwardly glancing between Quackity, who now had a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and was wearing Techno’s spare clothes, out of his suit, and Tommy. “Uhhh...kid? Anything you wanna tell me?” “Big Q is here now,” Tommy says, as if Wilbur couldn’t  _ see the guy right in front of him.  _

“Quackity, you wanna explain?” Wilbur pauses as he hears a noise from behind him, turning around and hurrying to help Fundy hobble down to the fire. “Dude, what happened to bedrest?” Techno grunted. “I did two weeks man lemme walk 4 steps from my bed pleeeease” he grumbles.

Wilbur glances back at Quackity, opening his mouth to speak and then..closing it because Quackity’s dark eyes flood with relief and he looks like he’s resisting the urge to hug Fundy as hard as he can, which is good because Broken Ribs. “You’re alive! You fucker, I thought you were toast.” Fundy gives a slight smile, hobbling over to sit near the other man. “You can’t fucking get rid of me.” 

Everyone relaxes a bit with Fundy’s seeming endorsement of Quackity, Techno turning to pass a plate of food to Fundy and then another to Wilbur. The foxy man gave a muffled thanks as he dug in, and everyone tried to ignore the way that Quackity ate as if he hadn’t in a week. 

“I. I was  _ wrong  _ Wilbur.” Quackity almost begs, having already finished his food. “Schlatt, he’s...he’s  _ hurting people,  _ Wilbur, you  _ know  _ I never wanted that.” Wilbur sighed, dragged his hands over his face, and nodded. Tommy pressed closer to his brother’s side, Techno crouched behind them and Quackity was struck with the  _ bizarre  _ thought that he looked a little bit like a very scary guardian angel in that position.

“I know. I...I know you didn’t want this, Quackity. I...you can stay. If you want. But if you hurt anyone here we  _ will  _ kill you, alright?” Quackity gives an eager nod, looking visibly relieved. “then...I guess I should...tell you what’s been happening. Back in L’Manberg.” 

Wilbur and Tommy got progressively more furious as Quackity quietly explained. He did not once falter, not once pause, as if he was afraid if he stopped speaking he might never start again. Fundy had scooted over, wrapping one hand around his friend’s wrist in an effort to be a little comforting. 

“After...the election, and the walls, and the flag, and all.” Fundy flinched at that but Quackity kept going, “Schlatt...went off the rails, a bit. He decided that would be the last election and...basically made himself a dictator? He tore down the White House.” Wilbur paled, and Tommy  _ snarled  _ because both could remember the long hours they’d spent building it, laughing and smiling with Quackity. It was one of the last  _ good  _ memories of home.

“He’s been being awful to Tubbo and well, you guys know what happened when Fundy tried to get out. He sent like, goods to drag Purpled back and he’s been like, forcing him to work. Eret...sorta has vanished? I’m not entirely sure where he is but he’s...I used to see him reasonably often. I haven’t seen him in three weeks. Schlatt keeps raising taxes on Niki and stealing her stuff. It’s...he’s  _ bad.”  _

“We’re gonna get rid of him.” Wilbur promises, and Techno hesitates. Wilbur must hear something because he turns to look at him. “Yeah Tech?” “well...that’s all well and good...but...takin’ down a government is...long. We should...get’m out first or he’s gonna hurt ‘em till we do.”

“That’s...not a bad idea.” Wilbur admits, giving Techno what he hoped was an encouraging look; the tall man looked less and less comfortable the more people who joined their little group. “So, how do we...do that? None of us can fucking go to L’Manberg.” 

They all just sat for a moment trying to think of a solution until Fundy sort of half-raised a hand, giving a soft “Eret.” “NO” Tommy shouted, before giving an apologetic sound as Fundy, Quackity, and Techno all flinched hard, and Fundy’s eyes lit with pain at the movement. “He BETRAYED us. Wil, c’mon dude, we  _ can’t.”  _

“He hates Schlatt.” Quackity’s voice was very soft and it was clear that there were things he wasn’t saying. “He...he  _ hates  _ him, Tommy, and he…” Quackity hesitates, shakes his head, bites his lip. “It’s not,  _ he’s _ not mine to tell about.” He gives a low noise, before seeming to realize he  _ has to.  _ “Schlatt has been awful to him. And he  _ misses you guys.  _ He’d help.” 

“We don’t have a choice.” Wilbur speaks and the exhaustion in his voice shuts down any other conversations. “There’s...there’s nothing else. We can’t ask this of Tubbo, he’s watching Niki too closely, and I...I won’t put another child in danger.” He thinks of Purpled, small and young and  _ lonely  _ in that damn UFO and mentally makes a note to put him high on the rescue list.

“We’ll go and talk to him tomorrow?” “If we can find him. If not...then we’ll try and find him.” Tommy nods, sighing as he settles down against Wilbur’s side. Techno cautiously sits nearby, Fundy draping himself against Wilbur’s free side. Quackity hesitates, glances back up towards the surface, before slowly settling down to sleep by the warmth of the fire as Techno settles in to keep watch until he  _ can’t  _ keep his eyes open any longer. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a plan is made, nothing works, and The Resistance may have a few new allies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Suicidal Intentions (No one actually dies), PTSD, non-graphic burns/medical things, panic attacks.
> 
> This one went...somewhere. I'm not quite sure where that somewhere was but it went...somewhere. I'm pretty nervous about this one because the tone got a bit different so I really hope you guys like it; please let me know if it's good or if it's shit lol

There is a  _ heated  _ debate over who will go to find Eret. Fundy wants to go because “I didn’t hate Eret as loudly as you fuckers,” which isn’t wrong but which ignores the fact that he is still healing from a lot of broken ribs. Tommy doesn’t even try to argue for his own inclusion; Eret’s land is Dream’s land and if Dream catches TOMMY there he will be dead. 

Wilbur doesn’t love this plan; he’s still, somewhere in his heart,  _ furiously  _ hurt by the way Eret had betrayed them and between that and the fact that he was also unwelcome near Dream’s land in any capacity, he more just fought  _ against  _ Fundy going than for his own involvement. 

It was very quickly decided that Quackity was going, since this was basically his idea and he and Eret were on  _ ok _ terms. Techno just kind of sulked around nervously; when they saw how skittish he was looking they all tried to turn the shouting match into more of a civilized debate, so Techno finally involved himself for long enough to mutter “I will go. In case of a fight.” 

Fundy managed to, somehow, argue his way onto the mission. Techno wasn’t sure  _ how,  _ but now they were walking through the woods, Fundy on horseback and the other two on foot since Techno had flatly refused to let Fundy come if the fox hybrid was walking. “Fundy?” He questioned as he waited at the top of a small hill for the other two men.

“Yes Techno?” “Why...you looked...concerned. Didn’t this guy...Wilbur said ‘e betrayed you?” Fundy sighs, leans back in the saddle slightly, petting Carl. “He did. He led us into a trap.” Fundy didn’t even sound annoyed so Techno just...raised an eyebrow and Fundy sighed and kept talking. “I found out after...I went by his castle, one time, I was bored, and he was...not ok. And I...found out that Dream had threatened him, had said if he didn’t help him than he’d just keep killing us all over and over until he did.”

Quackity just keeps walking, stumbling a little over sticks and roots; a few times, Techno has to dart a hand in his direction to keep him upright. “So you’re not...angry with him?” There’s confusion laced into Techno’s voice. “Nah, not...No. I’m...trying not to be. I haven’t exactly been perfect either I don’t think I have the right to be angry at someone for doing effectively the same thing I did.”

“Right, you betrayed them all and stayed.” Techno grunts, feeling slightly bad when Fundy flinches. “You’re gonna have to walk the last bit the horse is so, so conspicuous.”

The castle is huge. It’s also empty and silent and it feels  _ wrong  _ in a way Techno can’t put words to. He had never been somewhere like this and decided that he wasn’t really wanting to; it felt deeply unnatural. “He is not here.” Techno grunts, five minutes after they arrive and have searched most of the building.

“Where would he go?” The pink-haired man spins around, eyes flaring with a ferocity that neither of them have seen besides from when he comes back in after chasing away zombies and undead from their base. “I don't know him, you do. Where. Would. He. Go.” 

Fundy speaks up and his voice is small. “There’s...a lava pool I...he…” The words catch on his tongue and Techno raises an eyebrow, glances in his direction, drops his fingers to his bracelet. “What?” “He almost...he wasn’t ok. After...everything.” 

It says enough and not enough but Fundy points and Techno runs. He knows Fundy can’t keep up but it doesn’t matter because if Fundy is right then they are frighteningly close to there being no one to save and if Eret is  _ alive  _ then he needs to get there right. now. 

He ducks and weaves between the trees, until he can  _ hear  _ the sound of the lava. He comes up over the hill, eyes darting up in confusion at the water-covered launch pad before realizing how easy it would be to get around with those. He glances to the left and stills because there is a figure kneeling on the edge of the pit.

He realizes a moment too late that he doesn’t actually know what Eret looks like, but he’s smart enough to guess that that was him. The man is wearing relatively royal looking robes and Techno can catch the glint of a crown on the ground once he scales the water-pad’s ladder to see from a better angle.

He does not think he can reach the man in time. He hesitates, looks from his platform to the lava to the next. The man is motionless but all it would take is one lean and he would  _ fall  _ and Techno knows the blank look on his face too well; he does not intend to walk away. He does not intend anything but to fall.

He thinks of Wilbur’s angry eyes but the undertone of  _ worry  _ when he said Eret’s name. He thinks of Fundy, whispering the word  _ friend.  _ He thinks of a war that it is beginning to feel like they will never win, and he pulls his trident from his bag and says a silent prayer to a god that he has never believed in that he is not wrong that this will work. 

Quackity and Fundy come up over the hill just in time to see it; he can hear one of them shout “TECHNO” As he launches.  _ Please please please please please  _ he whispers silently as the lava gets closer and closer and the man still doesn’t move, doesn’t even seem to hear him. The angle feels right and so he twists himself, one hand pulling the stiff man to him while the other grips his trident. He tucks his legs and head up as he strikes the lava and, as fast as he can, releases the trident’s power once more, hurtling up towards the next platform. He aimed a little low; he strikes the side of the water and skids. 

It puts out the fire but he immediately knows that he’s  _ hurt.  _ He turns, because  _ burns are dangerous burns cause shock and if he goes into shock up here they will both drown _ and riptides back. He’s shaking, and he’s glad for a moment that he’d thought to twist because if he’d hit the other way…

Quackity is there as he lands, pulling Eret free and then hands are hauling him up and he  _ screams.  _ It hurts like few things in his life have as they haul him to the ground, mercifully smart enough to lay him on his stomach but it  _ hurts so badly  _ and he can’t stop the tears. “Fuck, fuck, FUCK, Techno what the FUCK” Fundy snarls, but there’s an undertone of so much worry. 

“We have to get out of here. Right now. Before someone comes.” Techno can hear footsteps but he can’t make the words work to warn them, can’t find the strength to put the thoughts together, and then there is a branch breaking and Fundy is shouting and he can barely hear the words over the throbbing of agony.

“Dream, please.” Fundy has one hand up, Eret pulled securely into his side as if he was afraid if he let go Eret would go finish the job. “Please what? You are not allowed to be here, any of you, well, but Eret, but you know that.” “Please, Dream.” Quackity begs, and Dream sighs. “Why the fuck should I not just hand you to Schlatt? His men are coming and you know it, they would’ve heard those shouts.”

Fundy speaks up as Dream’s hand drops to his sword. “Because he’s hurting your little brother.” Dream stills. “You’re lying. Purpled is in the UFO, he’s safe.” Quackity shakes his head. “No, he’s not, Schlatt threatened him into being on their side and he’s practically killing the kid in the mines. He’s hurting him Dream and if we die, the revolution has no goddamn chance.”

“And why shouldn’t I just go gut him?” Fundy snorts. “You can’t. You know that. It’d break the treaties and then the Badlands would get involved and yeah. I think you’d win. But do you want to kill your friends and allies in order to kill one man that the revolution is  _ happy  _ to kill for you?” Dream sighs, turning and shouting “SAP. GEORGEY. GET HERE NOW.”

To their credit, they’re fast; Sap arrives seconds later, and George is a step behind him. They blink at the standoff; the king, half cowering behind a hybrid they thought was dead and the Vice President of Manberg while a man lay on the ground with severe burns to most of his back and Dream stood across, sword up. “Get...what the hell is your name?” “He’s Techno.” 

“Get Techno with me, Sap. George, help Eret. We’re moving now. Which way is your base.” Fundy hesitates but Quackity gives a sharp “If we don’t trust him we are definitely dead. We have to try” and points. Techno whimpers in  _ agony  _ as his arms are hauled over Sapnap and Dream’s shoulders, trembling in pain. “J...s...l’mee die.” he groans, and Dream gives a harsh sound. 

“That’s not going to happen. I’m sorry. I know it must hurt but you are going to live.” there is no room for argument in his voice. Every step is agony but Techno is nothing if not stubborn and the figures on either side take most of his weight. He blinks, giving a slurred “quack. ‘Elp ‘undy.” Quackity, thankfully, gets it and ducks over to help support the hybrid, who is trembling a little in pain with every step as they fall in behind the trio, George and Eret in the rear.

Dream hates himself, just a little, right now. The man on his side is whimpering and gasping in  _ agony  _ and it’s his fault. And sure, he knows that he’s saving his life by not leaving him here but he’s going to wake up gasping because of those sounds. “You’re doing good dude, Quackity says we’re almost there and then we’ll get you some potions.” 

They reach the dirt hut pretty quickly; Quackity has most of Fundy’s weight by now and George is still hauling Eret along, hands tangled in his shirt. “...we can’t go down three wide.” Dream curses and Techno, eyes glazed with pain and exhaustion, flinches hard. “Sorry. I...ok, this is gonna hurt no matter how we do it, fuck.”

Quackity is..surprised, a little, by the genuine  _ concern _ in Dream’s voice. Dream’s always been so focused on himself that it’s difficult to imagine him caring at all but he seems to care, at least a little, that Techno was in agony. “Ok, here is what we’re going to do man, Sap is gonna carry you down and it’s going to hurt but then we’re going to dose you with potions I swear. Ok?” Techno gives a dull nod, whimpering a little. “Fundy and I are gonna go down cause I need to warn Wilbur before he shoots you” Quackity calls.

Sapnap walks as fast as he can. He can feel the figure in his arms trembling in agony and even though he’s not touching his back the man whimpers with each and every step. “Sorry man. Almost down” he promises. Wilbur and Tommy were watching but neither move to stab him, at least. “Medical room? Bathroom? Anything?” “On the right, Tommy, show them.” Tommy does, leads the way in, then darts out of the room.

Techno is crying. He’d be embarrassed, if he could focus on anything other than the  _ agony  _ in his entire body. “Hey dude. Talk to me, you alive in there?” He manages a groan, and the masked figure nods. “Ok, this is gonna...hurt. We need to wash your back and it’s really, really going to be shitty, but infections are worse my dude.” Techno nods, because he  _ knows.  _ He’s never burned himself this bad but he’s had nasty burns before and this is...bad, and he knows it. “I...ok, Sap, grab something for him to bite on, yeah?”

He reaches a hand out shakily but agony stabs up his spine and so he bites back a sob. “Dude, don’t move, you’re ok. What’s wrong?” He hesitates, trying to find the words, but his brain won’t work and he’s  _ so tired.  _ “I. I don’t.  _ Please.”  _ He bites his lip, tries to lay as still as he can. “I. Can you. Pin me. I don’t...It’s going to hurt and I’m going to hurt you and I don’t want to hurt people anymore. Please.”    
  


Dream nods like he understands and Techno is certain he doesn’t but he gestures and Sapnap moves, crouches down, grasps his arms and pins them firmly to the ground. “Say something if I’m hurting you, man.” He wouldn’t, and he knew it, but he nods because he knows to be good. “George, work on your burn cream, yeah?” He must’ve made a sound because Sapnap explained. “This moron,” He must’ve nodded at Dream, though Techno’s head was down and he couldn’t see, “Burns himself like, every other week dealing with creepers. I know...our people don’t get along but we’ve got you.”

He thinks he starts screaming but he can’t hear himself; he thinks he passed out, or maybe just dissociated, because when he drifts back there are hands petting his hair and his face is wet with tears and he’s pretty sure he’s pissed himself and his back hurts  _ so much.  _ “You’re ok, you’re ok, breathe.” Tommy is whispering, tangling his fingers gently in Techno’s hair. “Breathe, man, I won’t let them hurt you.” 

“Hey, Techno?” Dream moves, crouches right in front of him so Techno doesn’t have to move. “You’re almost done, ok? We just need to get the burn cream on and get some water in you and then you can rest, I promise. You’re doing great.” Them applying the cream  _ hurts  _ but after a few long moments the agony fades and as they work their way down his back, the pain gets less and less and he gives a relieved little whimper. “Dream?” “Yes Tommy?” “I...still don’t like you, but, thank you for helping them today.” “Course.” 

Techno is vaguely aware that he’s being moved; strong hands help him up, coax him to sitting, wash his legs, clean the tears from his face. He trembles, leaning his face into Dream’s shoulder, agony stabbing through him. “P...please? S...s...sleep?” “Yeah, let’s get you laying down bud, you did great. Here, lets get you some water.” Someone presses a glass to his face and he gulps down the water greedily. Then the hands are helping him up and coaxing him forward and then he’s laying on Wilbur’s bed. Someone is, awkwardly, petting his hair, and when the hand drifts away he’s  _ embarrassed  _ that he whimpers a little desperately. 

“I’ve got to talk to Wilbur, dude. George, be nice?” George sits, shifting Techno slightly so the young man’s head is resting in his lap, fingers running soothingly over his hair. “Here, we’ve got a regen and a health pot for you and then you can sleep.” He downs them obediently, ignores the terrible taste, closes his eyes, and lets the darkness take him.

Eret is not ok. That is immediately clear as Wilbur and Quackity duck into Wilbur, Tommy, and Fundy’s bedroom. Fundy is helped onto his bed where he immediately passes out on the bed. He’s clearly exhausted but that isn’t the biggest concern; Eret is, at least, slightly less catatonic but now he’s  _ trembling  _ against Quackity. “Ok, let’s sit him down and see if he’s hurt.”

Eret has a burn on one shoulder and some cuts and bruises but he’s pretty ok. He’s also  _ malnourished  _ and even as they clean the burn and wrap it, he barely moves. “Eret. Are you ok?” Quackity questions and the man flinches but doesn’t answer. “Ok, let’s just get some soup on, ok? He needs food. And we need to talk to Dream.” 

Quackity helped Eret out to the sort of sitting area, sitting him down and leaning the tall man against his side. “Good job dude, you’re doing good Eret, deep breaths, we’re ok I promise.” Eret whimpers, curls in on himself a little and while it  _ hurts  _ it’s at least a reaction. “Eret, talk to me.” “W...why?” His voice catches and he coughs, as Quackity presses a flask of water into his hands. Eret gulped down the water, giving a relieved noise. 

“Why what?” “W...w...why’d you c...come? I...I don’t understand.” Eret looks so  _ lost  _ that Wilbur can’t keep up too much anger as he steps around to get the soup warming. “We don’t want you  **dead** you fucker, jesus christ. We...nobody here wants you dead.” Quackity speaks up, but Eret is just...staring at Wilbur. It takes a moment and then Wilbur has to take a step back as Eret spins in his direction, eyes full of tears. “You’re w...wrong, Q.”

“No, he’s not.” Wilbur almost surprises himself by speaking but he doesn’t want Eret dead, he doesn’t want anyone dead who isn’t named Schlatt, not really. He’s even having a hard time wanting Dream dead, though Techno is still  _ screaming  _ and it’s a little heartbreaking but he knows Dream is helping and Tommy is there so Techno is  _ fine  _ as can be at the moment.

__ “I was angry at you, Eret, I was. I...am still, at least a bit. But I do not want you dead. I do not want you to die. You deserve to be alive.” Eret blinks sluggishly up at him and he must not see a lie on his face because he bursts into tears. Quackity tugs him to his side and Wilbur drops down on the other side, hesitantly wrapping an arm around the other man’s shoulders. “Breathe, Eret, you’re alright, deep breaths. We’re going to make sure that you’re alright.”

Eret twists and just...clings to Wilbur. He’s sobbing, now, gasping and trembling and  _ breaking  _ and Wilbur just...can’t be angry, not now. Maybe later he will be again, when he wakes up dreaming of explosions and swords and betrayal, but Eret sounds so broken that he just lets him cry. He thinks about Eret, on the edge of a lava pit, wanting to  _ die,  _ and he tries so hard not to hate himself for it but he isn’t sure he can.

Eret is half asleep when he stops crying, trembling in his arms. “C’mon Eret, sit up, you need some food and then we’ll get you in bed.” Quackity is gentler than Wilbur had expected as he manhandled the king back to sitting up, grabbing a bowl of soup and when Eret made no effort to eat it the other man simply shrugged and started to feed him.

It takes both of them to wrestle him back to the bedroom. Fundy is still asleep on Tommy’s bed so Wilbur hauls Eret up onto his. Eret watches him with wide eyes and Quackity seems to understand because he settles down on the other half of the bed, lets Eret scramble over to cling to his legs. “Night, you two.” “You’re not going to bed?” “I have to talk to Dream.”

Quackity nods, petting Eret’s hair to quiet the man as he shifts and whimpers. “Call me if you need me though man, I’ll be by the fire. Do NOT let Fundy up until someone checks his ribs.” Quackity nods again so Wilbur walks back out to the fire, getting himself some soup. It’s only a few minutes later that Sapnap and Dream approach, Tommy a few steps ahead. “Wilbur.” Dream dips his head slightly. “Dream. Let’s talk.” 


	7. A conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream and Wilbur talk about their regrets, and make a hesitent pact.

Dream settles down by the fire, takes the bowl of soup he is offered. He feels strangely vulnerable here, sitting by the fire in his enemies “home,” even though he knows how easily he would win a fight. They had sent Sapnap and Tommy to make sure the others were alright. “I am glad to see that you are relatively safe.” Wilbur gives a harsh laugh. “Why? You’ve made it clear what you think of us, Dream.”

“Yes. I did.” Dream sighs, leans back against the wall, pulls out a bottle of whisky from his ender chest because this is a drinking conversation. “I...was very sure in what I wanted. I wanted my...community to be safe. And I wanted it to be  _ mine.”  _ He hesitates, takes another swig, before putting the bottle back because he’s not sure he trusts himself enough today. “I….I was very sure. And I am increasingly sure that I was wrong.” 

Wilbur doesn’t speak, doesn’t interrupt, just lets Dream talk, and he appreciates it. “I...I didn’t...agree with you all but...I was wrong, Wilbur, to...I was a dictator. And that was wrong. I don’t...want to be what Schlatt is.” “I don’t think you are.” Wilbur speaks up, taking another sip of his stew. “He’d never...say he was wrong. He’d never admit that. He’d never come here and try to make amends at a cost to himself.” 

“What happened? I saw you come and Techno be hurt and Eret be….hurt, but I didn’t...what happened?” Dream sighs, takes another sip of his stew. “I...wasn’t there for all of it, but I can guess. Fundy and Quackity would probably have more information. Techno...saved Eret, as far as I can tell.” 

“But...how did he get burned?” “He...saved him from Himself, Wilbur.” there’s meaning in Dream’s words and Wilbur pales. “Techno pulled off one of the best trident moves I’ve ever seen but even that wasn’t enough to keep him completely safe. He should be ok; George is working on some regen potions and he was completely stable when I left him in Sapnap’s capable hands.”

“The arsonist knows how to deal with burns?” Dream gives a soft laugh. “Pretty much. I got there to Techno on the ground with most of his back second and third degree burns, Eret nonresponsive and Schlatt coming.” Wilbur tilts his head as he studies the other man. “And why didn’t you just leave? This is  _ certainly  _ a violation of treaties, probably.” 

Dream hesitates but if he wants Wilbur to believe him, if he wants him to  _ help,  _ he knows he has to be honest and so he forces himself to do just that. “I...they told me...Purpled is being hurt. He’s...he’s my little brother. I...I can’t let Schlatt hurt him I  _ can’t.”  _ A memory trickles into Wilbur’s mind, one he’d tucked in the back and forgotten; Tubbo, Tommy, and Purpled laughing at the edge of the river, joking, while Dream watched from the corner of Wilbur’s vision. Back when things were...simpler. 

“I know you care about him. Tommy does, too, they’re friends. We’re going to get him out, Dream.” Dream nods, lets the soup bowl warm his hands before he speaks again. “I...I know. I...I can’t promise anything without talking to Sap and George. I don’t...I don’t want to be the one forcing decisions, y’know? Not anymore. And I’m sure you have people to ask, too.” Wilbur nods. “But...I would like to help. I would.” 

Wilbur sighs. Dream looks  _ vulnerable  _ like this, armor off, sitting on the log in his characteristic mask. Wilbur doesn’t trust Dream, he isn’t sure he  _ wants  _ to trust him, but...he understands how negotiations work. He knows what it means to meet someone halfway and so he says, very softly, “I used to want to raze it to the ground. L’Manberg. For what he’d done to it.” 

His eyes flicker towards the holes Dream knows lead to the bedrooms, where Fundy is sleeping in pain with every breath, where Sapnap sits awkwardly petting Techno’s hair and trying to ease pain that can’t be eased, where Eret will wake up tonight screaming from nightmares of betrayal. “I don’t...I don’t think I. want to do that, anymore. I...he’s awful. Schlatt. He’s evil. But I don’t…” he shakes his head, clearly biting back tears. “But  _ this  _ is L’manberg. People caring about other people at a cost to themself because they believe in something. That’s L’manberg. And that’s this place. I don’t...I don’t want to hurt people anymore.”

Wilbur looks so  _ tired  _ that before Dream can stop himself he’s moving around the fire to sit next to him. “You don’t have to, you know. We don’t...we have the power, here. We could...get Purpled, and anyone else” he thinks of bees and happiness and  _ Tubbo  _ and feels a surge of relief that his little brother is at least, hopefully, not  _ alone.  _ “Anyone else you want. Schlatt couldn’t stop us and I….I’d have to talk to Bad and Skeppy and Ant and Sam but can you  _ really  _ see a world in which the Badlands steps in for Schlatt?”

And he can’t. As much as the Badlands seemed to be fond of chaos, they were very definitely unlikely to be on Schlatt’s side. “Maybe. I...maybe. I just…” Wilbur shrugs. “I want to live for a bit, y’know? We...we all deserve some happiness, I think. A break. Some peace. A time where the biggest wars were over your friend being a lunatic when near animals.” Dream laughs. He thinks of duals and scorched earth and betrayals and he wonders when the last time he slept through the night was. “Peace. Do you even remember how that works?” Wilbur laughs, shakes his head.

He’s tired, too; it’s written into his face. Dream hesitates, glances over his shoulder; he knows he can’t make an offer, can’t make a  _ deal,  _ without talking to the others. Wilbur knows it, too, at least, and that soothes some of the edge in his chest that he  _ wants to.  _ “Tell me about Techno?” 

Wilbur does; he tells him about the arrival of the quiet man, about potatoes and broken ankles and dead zombies. He speaks so briskly and so full of  _ relief  _ that Dream wonders when the last time Wilbur got to just vent was. Dream thinks of a bracelet on a wrist and an orange-haired man and he wonders if they don’t know. Well. it’s not his place.

A scream breaks the silence that falls and Wilbur is on his feet, reaching for his sword. Dream, who more than recognizes the cry as Eret’s, stands too, but the scream is not followed by another and if he listens carefully he can hear Quackity’s soft words. “Q’s got him. He’s fine.” 

Wilbur sighs, slumps back onto the log. “I...have a question.” His voice is careful. “You don’t  _ have  _ to answer but I’d like to ask.” Dream waits. “I...what did you say. To make him betray us.” Dream sighs because...yeah. He’s not proud of this, not anymore; he was at the time because it was  _ such a big win,  _ such a kick in the face to his opponents, but now…

Now he just thinks of Eret kneeling on the edge of a pit of lava and feels vaguely ill. “I...I don’t want you to...hate me.” His voice is smaller than he means for it to be and he knows it’s stupid because Wilbur  **does** hate him already but he just...he just wants to not feel like the worst person alive for a second. 

“I threatened him. Well. not him, you guys.” Wilbur tilts his head and Dream just keeps talking, voice a little desperate. “I said I’d kill you all and make him watch. He didn’t...he didn’t want to say yes, Wilbur.” 

He closes his eyes and...waits. He knows Wilbur has his sword, always has his sword, and he knows he deserves it but he doesn’t want to get punched, or stabbed, here, sitting on a log by a fire in a place that feels  _ safer  _ than he’s felt in a long time and...nothing happens. “Dream?” Wilbur’s voice is gentle. “Dream, breathe, I’m not mean enough to stab you like this good god.” 

Dream curls in on himself, forces a shaky breath into his lungs, then another. “I’m ok.” He promises, voice soft. “I...we all have regrets.” Wilbur whispers, staring up at the roof of the ravine. “We’re gonna...we’re gonna make up for it, yeah?” Dream nods, leaning back against the wall letting the warmth of the fire soothe him. “We’re gonna do better.” Wilbur promises again. And he means it, they  _ must  _ do better. For Tommy. For Purpled. For Eret. For everyone who has offered them their trust expecting nothing but safety in return, safety they are both so painfully aware they’ve failed to provide.

Dream nods. “We’ll be better.” he promises, and he means it, too. 


	8. Team Bonding!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The "team" "Bonds." Dream tries to atone. George tries to help Techno open up. Wilbur just tries not to have a breakdown.

Techno wakes up in agony. This isn’t a  _ surprise;  _ he knows very well how waking up in pain feels, but it’s disorientating. There are hands on his arms but he  _ panics,  _ tries to squirm away only to have to howl in agony when the pain flares up and the hands tighten if anything, trying desperately to keep him still.

“Techno, calm down, calm down you fucker you’re fine, you’re  _ safe. _ ” Tommy promises, crouched next to Sapnap who was busy trying to hold him down. Techno quieted, giving up his unlikely-to-succeed struggle against Sapnap, who slowly released him. “You know where you are man?” 

It takes him  _ too long  _ to nod, to remember that he’s not in the pits, not anymore, that he’s  _ home,  _ as much as he’s ever had a home. He nods, forces the words out of his mouth. “Home, Pogtopia. Safe.” The black-haired man who’s now just sort of kneeling above him nods. “Yeah. Georgie’s comin’ with some salve for your back and I think we’ve got some more regen potions, you’re gonna be fine.”

Tommy slips out of the room; he trusts Techno to start screaming if Sapnap tries to hurt him, and Wilbur had said something about going to see him when Tommy had made breakfast. He ducked into the other bedroom, finding Fundy still sound asleep. Quackity and Eret are both asleep, and Tommy slips out before he wakes them because he’s not  _ that  _ much of a dick. 

“We should do like...a general health check.” Dream speaks up. Wilbur tilts his head, a question in his eyes, and Dream explains. “ ‘s something my guys started doin’ because people were being dumbasses and trying to hide how injured they were. Sapnap almost fell off a cliff and died. So then we decided we were gonna have morning meetings where everyone would  _ be honest  _ about how they were feeling.”

“That’s a good idea. Mind if I...ask a question?” “Sure” “Did you include like...mentally? Or just “are you about to fall over?” Dream snickers at that, but it’s tired, and Wilbur can hear the worry in his voice when he speaks. “It was mostly physical, to be honest, because mental issues were...less likely to get someone IMMEDIATELY dead. But yeah. It should...be both.”

They gather in the room Techno is in, because after a quick debate about whether it was more fair to move Fundy or Techno, Fundy decided he was more mobile and hobbled over. It was...uncomfortably awkward in the little room, now; Fundy and Quackity were on one bed; they’d dragged all the beds into one room for this meeting. Eret lay curled up on another, head in George’s lap. Techno was on the third, Sapnap still kneeling by his head. Tommy, Wilbur, and Dream were just kind of on the floor near the walls.

Wilbur spoke up. “Alright, so...team meeting. Team? I dunno if that’s the word. Hmm” Tommy cut him off, not wanting this to devolve into linguistics. “We all fucking want Schlatt dead. We’re the anti-Schlatt team. After that we’ll fucking figure it out.” that got a laugh out of Fundy and Quackity, and even Sapnap gave a slight grin at the blond teenager as he nodded in agreement.

“Ok, team. Dream’s suggested that we do a group checkin because we’re...a fucking mess, at the moment. We’ve got a lotta shit we need to do but we need to start with getting everyone healthy and I dunno, developing enough teamworking abilities to not constantly think the others are about to stab us in the back.”

Everyone looks stiff and uncomfortable and  _ nervous.  _ Wilbur gets it; he is, too, sitting this close to someone who has sworn war on him like four times. But there was something in the desperation in Dream’s voice, in the carefully tender way Sapnap scritched his fingers through Techno’s hair in an attempt to calm the other man, in the way he’d watched George stay up all night brewing regens and making burn salves, that made him trust that this wasn’t a trap.

No one is thrilled when Dream says “We’re gonna go around an’ everyone’s gonna say any injuries they’re dealing with  _ and how you’re feeling mentally.”  _ If he stares at Sapnap while he says this, no one comments. “If you lie you’re gonna be on bedrest for three days.” Wilbur speaks up, staring holes in Tommy and Fundy.

They all shift uncomfortably and Wilbur takes the hit and goes first. “I’m doing ok; I’m a little hungry but I’m not super hurt at the moment beyond like...bruises. And I’m…” He takes a moment to assess himself. He’s  _ tired  _ and twitchy and anxious and while he does heavily consider just...insisting he was fine, that would be...a very bad way of getting the others to tell the truth and he’s worried they’re all breaking down and no one is noticing not even him no matter how hard he tries and so he keeps talking.

“I’m...worried. That this alliance will end in backstabbing since historically...yeah. And I’m worried about everyone here and Tubbo and Purpled and...yeah. There’s...I’m having a lot of anxiety.” He tucks his head against Tommy’s shoulder as his brother pulls him closer with a worried sound. “I’m fine, kid.” “Fuck you I’m a fucking man.” “Yeah, right.” 

Dream, to his surprise, speaks up next. “I’m mostly ok, we haven’t been in a fight in a while. I’m...also a little uh..anxious. About Purpled, and about Schlatt hurting him.” He doesn’t need to elaborate; everyone in the room stiffens at the idea and several hands flick towards swords. 

Quackity’s next in line. “I uh, I think I wrenched my shoulder yesterday dragging Fundy, but beside that I’m not hurt.” “Get someone to wrap it after” Wilbur grunts, and Quackity nods. “I’m...I dunno the word. Raw? It’s...been a bit of a nuts last like, week for me and I don’t think it’s...set in yet, y’know?”

Fundy is half draped over Quackity’s lap but he’s nudged to go next. He opens his mouth but Wilbur cuts him off. “If the word “Fine” passes your lip, you’re on bedrest kid.” Fundy glares, but he  _ knows  _ his dad is right. “I’m. hurting. I fucked my ribs up worse yesterday going on that job.” He admits, curls an arm defensively around his chest. “Breathing hurts, now.” “George, get him some regens after yeah?” George nods. 

“I’m...pretty ok mentally, to be honest. I’ve been here for a bit so I’m pretty settled in.” He isn’t lying; he really does feel...better, since he moved in here. He doesn’t panic every time he’s left alone, and he doesn’t flinch every time he sees Quackity. He’s ok. 

Sapnap’s drawl fills the air; they’re all trying to not look at Eret, who is so clearly not ok. “I’m feelin’ ok; like Dreamie, said, we haven’t fought much recently. I’m a little...uh….apprehensive? Like Wilbur said, I wanna trust you guys and I know how much Purpled means to Dream, but it’s hard when we’ve been fighting for so long. And I’m...I feel guilty.” 

“For what?” He’s not even sure who asked. “For not noticing that Eret wasn’t ok. He was on our side and we didn’t...protect him. At all. So I feel guilty for not...ever going over to his place and making sure he was okay.” George speaks up, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, same. I’ve got a stab wound that’s still healing so I’m trying not to move too hard, but it’s healing pretty fine. I’m...with Sap, yeah. I’m sorry, Eret.” 

The king glances up, eyes still frighteningly blank. It takes him a moment to find the words, voice rough and shaky with pain and disuse. “I’m. hungry. And...cold, and sick I think. I’ve got a burn on my arm from...yesterday. And a couple of busted fingers.” His voice is so blank that Wilbur is  _ deeply  _ concerned; Eret describes his very bad physical state as if he’s simply reading out of a very dull book.

“I’m...confused?” His voice drops a little, small and frail and George reaches down to squeeze his hand. “I...you guys  _ hate  _ me, Wilbur’s people, and I deserve it I was awful and I hurt you and I’m  _ sorry.”  _ His voice catches on a sob but he keeps going. “And Dream, you guys don’t...don’t  _ hate  _ me I think but you don’t...care. You made it clear I was a pawn and I didn’t matter but then you guys  _ helped  _ people you hate to help me and you’re letting me stay here and I don’t...I don’t understand.” 

Wilbur moves, crosses the room till he’s kneeling next to Eret. “Eret. look at me.” He does, tears visible in his dark eyes. “I’m sorry. I...Dream explained that he...forced you to betray us and..” wilbur hesitates, thinks of stab wounds that took weeks to heal and hours spent soothing Tommy and Tubbo and Fundy and  _ himself  _ through nightmares. Then he thinks of the broken young man on the bed in front of him and he can’t make himself be cruel. “I forgive you, Eret. We’re ok.” 

He’s pleasantly surprised when Tommy speaks up, voice soft. “ _ We  _ forgive you, you fucker. You’re family, ok? Don’t you ever fucking forget it.” Tommy’s never been one for  _ forgiveness  _ and that seems to be what makes it sink in because Eret’s too-frail body shakes with sobs as he twists, presses his face into George’s knees and weeps. “Shh, shh, shh, shh.” George whispers, petting his hair and shoulders. “You’re ok, Eret. We’ve got you. You’re ok.” 

Eret falls asleep like that and no one wants to wake him so they turn to Techno. Techno sighs. “I do not want to do this.” “I know, but you need to dude.” “Well, my back is a well-cooked steak. It...hurts, but that shit they keep putting on it makes it...better.” “I’m glad. We’ve got some more potions for you after it...should be healed pretty quickly to be honest. You can probably be up and about...not today, maybe tomorrow, definitely the day after.” 

“Well, then no  _ combat  _ for 3 days at least.” Dream tilts his head, and Wilbur elaborates; “Techno’s our best fighter, by far. He might even be better than you. I’m not starting combat without him.” Techno flushes at the praise and Dream grins. “We’ll have to spar sometime, but yeah, that makes sense. How are you, y’know, psychologically?”

Techno hesitates. He does not want to be weak, not infront of these people, especially now that he knows that Dream is apparently a deeply good fighter but he doesn’t want Wilbur to be angry at him, desperately wants them to trust him, to  _ keep  _ him. “I’m...uncomfortable.” His voice is careful, as monotone as ever but more...precise than usual.

“I...where I was before, I fought often. But being in pain like this...reminds me of that. And I do not like being...weak. It...makes me uncomfortable to feel like if somethin’ came into here, I’d be unable to defend myself.” Dream nods, because he gets that. “Ok, how can we make that more ok for you dude?” Wilbur questions. “We could make sure that you’re not alone, that way if someone tries to hurt you, there’s someone who is physically able to defend you?” Dream hums, nods, “that’s a good idea. Might I suggest we keep all 3 injured people in here, maybe with George?”

George opens his mouth to Protest, but Dream keeps talking. “You’re the best with brewing and potions and two of them have  _ bad  _ physical injuries. Plus, you’re a fucking great fighter so you could defend them but you’re also still healing from that stab that fucking piglin got in the other day.” If Techno flinched, no one was mean enough to mention it. “...fine.” 

Tommy sighs, leans against his brother’s side. “I’m stressed. I want to fucking stab Schlatt and I want to get Tubbo and Purpled out and I want  _ home  _ back. Plus I don’t fucking trust you even though I...want to.” He sighs. “I’m...I’m not  _ stupid.  _ I know we need help, I know I want to be with you lot not against you just...don’t fucking expect me to trust you yet, ok?” Dream nods, something pained in his eyes because gods, he  _ gets  _ why Tommy doesn’t trust him, he really, really does. 

“Ok.” Dream looks around, and he  _ gets  _ what Wilbur had meant the night before for the first time.  _ This is L’manberg. People caring about other people at a cost to themself because they believe in something  _ Wilbur had said, and Dream  _ saw  _ it. He saw it in Sapnap digging into his well-buried sensitive side as he tried to sooth Techno’s pained noises. He saw it in George, who’d already shifted so he was between Eret and the door. This meant something, for some reason, to all of them, and he’d be damned if he let his own pride hurt someone again. Even Tommy.

They split off into jobs. Tommy and Dream got stuck together taking care of Techno’s potato farm. Tommy worked quietly, but Dream knew an eye was being kept on him the whole time. When they were almost done, Dream moved to the Ender Chest, opening it slowly and looking at his things. He...was more than a little unsure on what he was about to do. But he looked at Tommy, 16 and hurting and felt so overwhelmingly  _ guilty. _

“Hey, kid.” “Notta fucking kid, I’m a big fucking man.” Tommy grunts, and Dream doesn’t correct him because he’s trying to get Tommy to understand how sorry he is. He thrusts out his hand and Tommy blinks uncomprehendingly at the disc in his hand. “I...what?” Tommy’s voice goes so  _ small  _ that Dream feels even more guilty. “It’s. I don’t have Mellohi on me, Bad’s got that one I think, but...I’m sorry, kid.” Tommy reaches slowly forward, fingers closing around Cat and in the blink of an eye he’s cradling the disc to his chest.

Dream knew those discs meant a lot to Tommy, but he doesn’t think he understood how  _ much  _ they meant until now, as Tommy drops down by the ender chest to put it away safely, then to both of their surprise throws his arms around Dream and starts to shake. Dream hesitates, slowly wrapping his arms around the teen. “You’re ok, kid. I’m...I’m so sorry, kid. I...I was wrong. I was.” Tommy closes his eyes, still sobbing. 

He’d never, in a million years, imagined this scenario, standing in Techno’s fields as he hugs his biggest enemy but now that Dream is holding him tight, he can’t stop crying. Dream’s a really good hugger, even if Tommy doesn’t want to admit that; he’s tall and his arms are tight and warm and  _ safe.  _ “Shh, kid, Wilbur’s gonna think I fucking hurt you.” Tommy snickered, taking a shaky step back, seeming to recognize the enormity of what Dream had done because he gave the man a tiny smile.

“Thank you, Dream.” “No problem, kid.” Dream reached over to ruffle his hair. “I know it doesn’t...make everything better, at all, but...I want to do better, kid. For you guys. Let me know if I can help, yeah?” Tommy nods, turning back to the potatoes. “C’mon, let’s make sure these are perfect or Techno will kick our asses.” Dream laughs, nods, and follows him back into the fields. “Yes, yes he will.” 

George spends his entire day brewing. Techno dozes, alternating between waking up gasping in pain and fear and trying to  _ not  _ fall asleep. Fundy is laying next to Eret, so he can reach over and try to anchor the man when he starts to shake and whimper. George finishes up another round of regens, passing two to Techno and one to Fundy. 

“You guys all good?” Whispered yesses fill the air; Eret is finally asleep again and nobody wants to wake him. Techno hesitates, giving a soft “Thank you very much.” “No problem, dude; if I can do anything else, let me know, yeah?” George doesn’t mind the quiet; it’s soothing and knowing that he was  _ helping  _ was a good thing. He glanced over, giving a little laugh when he sees Fundy is asleep, too, and it’s…a cute sight.

Techno is laying on his stomach, still, arms stretched out in front of him. George glances again at the bracelet, hesitating before he speaks. “Do they know?” Techno goes very, very still, and George can see him pale. “How the fuck do you…” “Friend of ours had one. Doesn’t wear it much, anymore, because of how much it hurts.” 

“I…” Techno sighs, rests his head on his arm. “It’s making this twice as bad, my dude, and you know it. Nobody’s going to give a shit. Just...please? You’re making it really hard to heal you.” Techno sighs, reaching slowly back to tug the bracelet off of his wrist. It takes a moment before his form shifts, and Techno cries out, muffled by the pillow his face is pressed into. 

George watches, kneels to press a soothing hand to the man’s forearms, since his shoulders are burned. “Breathe, breathe, you’re fine, you’re  _ fine  _ my guy.” Techno shifts, and George can see the effect; the pink hair is the same, and he’s built the same, but his skin has deepened into a darker pink. The most startling change is, unsurprisingly, the very pig-looking face staring back at him.

“There, happy? I’m a fucking freak.” The pig hybrid grunts, presses his face back into the pillow. It’s very clear that he’s in less pain; the worst of the shaking is gone, but despite that, Techno looks stiff and uncomfortable. “You’re not a freak. I’m…” He hesitates, bites his lip. “I’m glad you trust us enough.” George stands, wanting to let the socially uncomfortable man rest as he turns back to brewing, listening to the quiet shuffling movements of the people around him and feeling...glad that this was where they’d ended up. 


	9. Running

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A traitor emerges, Purpled makes a desperate decision, and Bad and Wilbur decide to make a risky move.

Somehow...no one made it a big deal. Techno didn’t understand that, but Fundy just curled up by his side and glared at them all and they just...let him be. His back still throbbed but the pain was  _ much  _ better now and it was manageable like this, with Fundy’s warm body tucked against his side and a bowl of soup in his hands, it’s not the focus of his every moment like it had been before.

They had apparently all decided to sleep in one room, so in case of an emergency, the injured people weren’t on their own. Since they still only had three beds, Techno and Fundy shared; no matter how hard both argued they could sleep on the ground, they were ignored.

Tommy and Wilbur slept on the floor instead, Wilbur curled defensively around his brother. Dream had won the rock-paper-scissors game with Sapnap to claim the second bed with Eret, since the king almost panicked when sleep was mentioned. Sapnap slept on the floor, too, between Dream and Eret and the door, while George and Quackity slept curled up on the third bed.

Purpled was so tired. His hands shook as he curled up under his thin blanket in the shack that Schlatt had ordered him to sleep in tonight, as punishment for not finding enough diamonds. It didn’t matter that the teen had been in the mines until his hands bled, it didn’t matter that a rockfall had damn near sent him into lava twice, he didn’t have enough, could never have enough, to please Schlatt.

He cried, curling his knees into his face and weeping. He wanted to get out of here so badly it hurt; even the constant loneliness of his UFO would be better than this. He wanted to go to the cities and play Bedwars and find bees with Tubbo and chase Tommy around for trying to steal his shit. He wanted anything that wasn’t here.

If it wasn’t for the fact that he wasn’t super clear on the death mechanics in the world, he would’ve already voided to get back  _ home.  _ Even if it wouldn’t last and Schlatt would come take him again, he just wanted a moment to be  _ safe,  _ but this wasn’t the bedwars arena and he was terrified that if he died that’d just...be it. That’d be the end.

He heard yelling, and listened for a moment until he recognized Schlatt’s voice. He curled smaller, listening for a moment as he tried to tell who he was speaking to. The voice was feminine and familiar and...why was Niki talking to Schlatt? He hauled himself closer to the sort of side of the hut, leaning his head against the wall so he could try and listen to whatever was going on on the other side.

“Are you ready for your new job?” “Yes.” “Good, you’ve got the poison. Go, fool them, kill them, you know what I want.” He can  _ hear  _ the smirk in the man’s words and feels himself still. “Yessir. I’ll be back soon.” Something in the tone made it  _ very  _ clear to him that this wasn’t a ruse, wasn’t a trick, she  _ meant  _ every word she said and he was terrified. 

He had to warn them. Somehow. He...he didn’t know how, didn’t know where they are or what to do. He had a communicator with Dream, a rare commodity on this server, but...it was back in his home. It wasn’t  _ here  _ but he was here and all he had was his pickaxe and…

And there was only one option. This was going to suck substantially harder than his bedwars games; there he’d throw himself into the void without a care in the world because he knew he’d be fine. Here he wasn’t going to heal instantly, hear, it was going to  _ hurt  _ and

And the pickaxe hit his chest hard and fast and he was  _ falling and falling and everything hurt and he couldn’t stop screaming and he thought his skin was being burned off and he was dying and dying and dying and everything hurt him so badly he couldn’t breathe and _

And he was in his bed, tears streaming down his face as he sobbed hysterically. He allowed himself five seconds to  _ breathe,  _ and to hope that Schlatt took a while to find his hut was empty and then he moved, pulling himself to his knees and fumbling with his backpack. Blood was gushing from his chest; it wasn’t a fatal wound, not anymore, but it wasn’t  _ good  _ and it hurt so badly but he had to move. 

He cradled the communicator to his chest, fumbling with the buttons. It was something only admins really had, usually, but Dream had given him one and express permission to  _ call him  _ if he needed him so...he was. He sent the quick message, fumbling to pull on boots. His entire world was agony but he had to keep going, he had to finish this, he had to ensure that he had enough food and his medical kit and his sword and his shittier pickaxe, since his best was still in the tent.

And then he was off, hobbling, careening into the woods. He did his best to hide his tracks, to not break the branches under his feet and not drip blood everywhere, as he found his way to a riverbank and just sank down in the little cave made where the lip of the shore met the sand and there, he finally let himself break down.

Dream woke up to his communicator vibrating. He wondered for a moment if it was someone from another world; the creators of them would sometimes contact him with questions or people they thought would fit in or tournaments that were coming up or such. 

Looking down at his communicator he stilled when he saw that it was  _ Purpled  _ he had a notification from. He’d sent his brother half a dozen messages after finding out he wasn’t ok but he hadn’t responded once. Now, he flipped the tab open and blinked at the very questionablely spelled message, a  _ very  _ concerning sight because Purpled was usually pretty precise with his messaging.

“Dreamie. Schlat bad. Hurt. Niki BAD. Goig t hurtt u. Paison. Sty Safe.” Dream scrambled to his feet, accidentally waking Eret who was asleep tucked against his side; it’d been his turn to calm the King down when he’d woken up streaming. “Sorry Eret, I’m just getting up to talk to Wilbur.” He promises, ducking across the room to where Wilbur is asleep, curled defensively around Tommy. “Wil” He whispered, crouching down to try and wake the other man, realizing just a moment too late that waking a soldier was never wise.

Wilbur jerked awake and away, dropping his hands to his sword and shield. “Wilbur, breathe” Dream threw both hands up, trying to keep his voice calm. “I woke you. Me. Dream. Your ally. You’re fine.” It took a moment but Wilbur slowly lowered the sword, giving an embarrassed “Sorry.” “You’re fine, dude. I uh. Comeon, lets go outside and I’ll show you this? Sapnap’s a light sleeper.” 

Wilbur glances down at the communicator that’s been shoved into his hands, paling as he reads it. “I… are you sure it’s him?” Dream nods, and Wilbur can hear the worry in his voice behind the mask. “He’s the only one who calls me Dreamie, man, and he’d never fucking...it’s how I always know it’s him. It’s him. And we both know he wouldn’t say that without reason.”

The thing was, Wilbur  _ did  _ know that. Purpled, the times Wilbur had met him at least, had always been quiet and polite and  _ honest;  _ he’d say Tommy was the one who’d pushed Tubbo into the lake no matter how hard Tommy tried to bribe him. “Fuck. I...fuck, Dream, I...what are we supposed to do?” Wilbur looked so lost, voice small and fragile and Dream made a mental note to tear Niki to pieces for being the latest person to just  _ ruin  _ Wilbur’s trust.

“We’re gonna get Tubbo and we’re gonna get Purpled and we’re gonna...we’re gonna make them pay. We’re gonna make them  _ pay.”  _ he doesn’t have to say who the we means; Wilbur clearly gets it if the way he curls smaller and bites back a sob is any indication. “I’m...I’m so tired of being betrayed.” He sighs, forcing himself to stand straight again, moves back towards the door, but Dream can see the tears on his face and moves to block him.

“Wilbur. Talk to me, don’t shut down. Does she know where we are?” Wilbur pauses, before he goes dead white and nods a little frantically. “Fuck, yes, I told her I thought...I’m so fucking dumb.” “No, you’re not. We’re fine. We just need to get the fuck out of here, right now.” 

Wilbur nods, and Dream can see him forcing himself to calm, though he doesn’t ask Dream to let go of his wrists and Dream makes no movement to do so. “Yeah, ok. You’re right. We can’t walk through.” Dream tilts his head, and Wilbur explains “Techno and Fundy and Eret would literally die, probably. And they’d try, because Fundy and Techno are stubborn as fuck and Eret would walk into fire if he thought it’d please us.”

Dream grimaces and Wilbur makes a quiet sound as he realizes his own poor choice in words. “Sorry, but, I’m right.” He glanced back as the shabby door opened and they were face-to-face with Techno, who had already tugged on his boots and pants and was seemingly considering his chestplate. “No, George will actually stab you.” “If I’m wearing nothing and I fall and cake my back in dirt, he’ll be more pissed.” Techno grunts. 

Dream sighs, but Techno isn’t  _ wrong  _ and they both know it. “If you can take the pain, then do it, but keep it off till we’re getting going.” Dream sighs. “I have horses. I need...ten minutes to get them ready, less if I can take George or Sapnap.” “Have George, animals hate Sap.” Techno nods, ducking back into the room.

They wake the others. Techno has taken charge, but Wilbur isn’t sure he likes it; the man’s eyes are flashing dangerously but there’s no emotion in his voice and he sounds very much like he’s just hoping to dissociate his way through this whole experience. Well...they need him, and if it works, it works. Wilbur can’t exactly tell someone else to not repress emotions at the moment; none of them are letting themselves feel the weight of Niki’s betrayal.

Fundy is shaking in pain just from getting vertical; he’d fucked  _ something  _ up badly when he’d fucking run miles after rescuring Eret, according to Sapnap, who just sort of shrugged and said “won’t kill him I don’t think but he’s gonna fucking hurt. Someone needs to ride with ‘im.” “I’ve got him.” Wilbur grunts; his son is  _ hurt,  _ he’s not trusting anyone else.

“Throw out the food and water. We can’t trust it’s not poisoned. I have extras stored near the horses. George, come.” Techno is out the door in a moment, George scrambling after him. Quackity gets under Fundy’s other side, as Tommy quietly packs all of their valuables into their bags. “Gods I wish you’d allowed the end, Schulkers would’ve been fucking nice.” He mutters, shoving spare iron into a pouch.

Eret clings to Sapnap’s arm, the black-haired man making sure to keep the king close. “Where are we going?” Dream questions aloud; this is not his revolution. This is not his decision even if he has something he really wants to do. Wilbur hesitates, shifts on his heels, and Dream can see the cogs turning. “We got two options. We can just...run, find somewhere else safe, or...or the Badlands.” 

Tommy spins around and just kinda stares at him, a question in his eyes. “Is that smart?” “No. But..nothing is smart. Nothing is good. We don’t have good options. And…” he hesitates, thinks of Bad and Ant and thinks that they  _ wouldn’t  _ turn injured people away. “And I don’t think there’s a better option than trying the badlands. You and I both know Schlatt won’t go there even if he somehow thought we were there.” 

“But it’s far.” There’s an unspoken question in Tommy’s eyes as he looks at Eret and Fundy, then at the door where Techno had gone.  _ Can they do that? Can they make it that far?  _ “We don’t have a choice.” “Ok, both of you fuckers get a bag. You too, Big Q and NapSack.” “NOT MY NAME!” 

Tommy leads the way deeper into the ravine, ignoring Wilbur’s question of “Where the fuck are we going?” They come out into a cave, where Techno is busy trying to calm a large black horse. “Ok I’m gonna do this in order” He nods at where a group of horses are saddled and ready, tied to hitching posts. “Left to right, Dream you’re on the Andrew, Wilbur second with Fundy on Peter, Tommy on Jasper.” He glances over to see them moving in that direction. “Eret and George on Lucia, Sap on Quincy, Quackity on Martha.”

“What about you?” “I’m on Carl.” he nods at the nervous looking horse. “He won’ let you fuckers on him.” Dream is already up, reaching down a hand to help Wilbur clamber up onto his. Sapnap and Tommy boost Fundy up, the fox whimpering as he half slumps against Peter’s mane; mercifully, the horse doesn’t try to move. Techno is glad he’d gone for his steadiest. 

Quackity is shifting nervously on Martha, and Techno moves Carl to his side. “Just keep steady and she’ll follow.” He promises, turning to Dream and Wilbur. “Ready?” Wilbur nods, before giving a careful “Dream, you lead. Fundy’s too hurt to be near the front.” Dream nods, turning and starting out the door, the others falling in behind him as they’re off.

Tommy watches his companions as they ride. Dream’s head is up and Tommy doesn’t know how to read his enemy behind the mask but he can see something in the way he’s holding himself that screams too much fear for tommy to be worried this is a trap. Wilbur rides with one hand, his free on one Fundy’s shoulder; it looks like it’s for comfort but Tommy knows his brother well enough to know that it’s to make sure he can feel each breath he takes.

Eret is quiet as ever, but George is quiet this time, too; they’re not the best combo, with the taller one being the one who is not helping. Quackity looks deeply uneasy, clinging to his horse’s mane. Sapnap rides with a quiet confidence, sticking close to both Quackity and Eret in case one slips.

They ride for almost an hour. They’re nearing Sam’s base, according to Dream, when the shouts fill the air and the masked man curses. “FUCK, Fuck, fuck, that’s a raid.” Techno spins his horse around, cursing. “Wilbur, George, get into the brush and hide right now.” He pulls his sword, Dream’s horse falling into step next to his.

The raiding party is  _ huge.  _ Dream splits off to one side and Techno to the other, both cutting down the raiders as best they could while Tommy and Sapnap dismounted and took the other two sides, neither comfortable fighting on horseback. 

Dream is  _ hurting.  _ There are deep gashes to his chest and shoulder and he’s had to switch his sword to his left hand but they’re winning. Techno is a  _ machine;  _ Dream has never been afraid watching someone else fight. He now thinks he knows how people feel watching him fight and he’s not entirely sure he likes it. The last pillager falls to a blow from Sapnap, who’s nursing a gash to his face, and Dream’s oldest friend turns to him with wide eyes.

“Ok, we need to get going NOW” Dream nods, using his good arm to spin his horse and galloping onwards, glancing left and right to see the others running alongside. Wilbur has the reins in both hands, now, and Techno’s horse is a step ahead of his own, moving with a beautiful, flowing gait. 

Dream is getting fuzzy as they near Sam’s home.  _ Please. Please be home, please be home, please let us  _ **_in_ ** _ Sam I will owe you forever.  _ He begs silently. Techno has given up on not crying, shaking a little as he clings to his horse’s reins and mane, and Wilbur and Fundy are looking shakier and shakier.

Dream barely hears the shouts, but then there are people in front of them and Bad is shouting at him. “Dream! Dream, what happened, what’s going on?” He manages to slide off of his horse, slumping a little until Sapnap grabs him. “Please.” Wilbur’s voice is smaller than Dream’s ever heard it, or maybe that’s just the blood pounding in his ears from pain and shock and blood loss. 

“Come on.” Sam takes charge, and a moment later they’re all standing in the entryway to his base. The creeper hybrid turns, taking in the sight before him; Dream, injured as he’s ever seen him, leaning on Sapnap, who had blood running down his face. Wilbur and Tommy are clearly the only things keeping Fundy on his feet. George is kneeling next to a pig hybrid who Sam had never seen before, lips moving but speaking too quietly for Sam to make out his words. 

Eret is shaking a little, pressed against Quackity’s side, somehow looking smaller than the shorter man. They look fucking  _ wrecked  _ and Sam feels a stab of worry before Bad takes charge and effectively orders everyone after him. Sam wonders if he should even have let these people in but he looks at Dream and sees that the man looks  _ defeated  _ and...yeah, no. They had to.

Bad sits them all down in the medical area. Wilbur helps Fundy lay down, runs fingers through his Son’s fur as the hybrid whimpers in agony. “Shh, shh, shh, you’re ok, you’re fine. My little champion, you did  _ so  _ well.” he breathes, curling up next to the cot. The others just...stand around, and so Sapnap apparently decides he’s in charge. “George, help Techno get that armor off and see how much damage he did to his back. Bad, we need potions; healing and regen if you got them. I’ll pay you back in ‘em myself if I have to.”

“You muffin, of course you can have potions.” Sam had ducked out to get his automatic potion brewing thingy up and running to make more healing potions. “Tommy, help Dream out of his armor he’s really bloody. Quackity, we need to organize the medical stuff we have.” 

The room is...chaotic. Techno’s back was  _ bad  _ and even the usually stoic hybrid couldn’t stop from screaming in pain, hands twisting in the blankets as he fought against Sapnap, who was pinning him to let George have time to work. There wasn’t much they  _ could  _ do for Fundy; Bad had given him a regen potion lanced with a sleeping one and he was out for the count. 

Quackity and Skeppy were having a heated debate over whether Eret was in shock or just traumatized. Nobody was sure what the difference was, but they let them be until Bad went over, shoved a bowl of soup into Eret’s hands, and said it didn’t matter either way.

Ant and Bad were working on Dream. They’d considered switching with George and Sapnap, so they could help their friend, but Techno had started  _ growling  _ when the unfamiliar people got close and while he’d known Sapnap and George for all of two days, he was exhausted and in agony and they’d yet to hurt him.

An hour later, Techno was bandaged and dozing, Sapnap washing blood from his long hair, a bandage over the stitches Bad had given him. The room had settled; Eret was asleep now, too, head in Quackity’s lap, the other man also sound asleep. George was curled up next to Dream, who was also stitched and bandaged, both dozing but not really asleep. Wilbur was curled up with Fundy, fingers tangled in the red fur, and Tommy sat quietly against the wall between Fundy’s bed and Techno’s.

Sam peaked into the room, catching Bad’s eyes; he was quietly checking Fundy’s ribs. The fox hybrid whined in his sleep and Wilbur tightened his grip with something close to a warning growl. Bad took a step back, quietly crossing the room to Sam’s side, beckoning him out into the hall.

“Are they ok?” “...I mean, no? The poor muffins are very not ok! Even DREAM was hurt!” Bad’s eyes are wide with concern and he wraps an arm around Skeppy, who had scrambled over to his side. “We need to talk to Dream in the morning.” Sam decides. “And Wilbur. We need to find out what the  _ hell  _ is going on.” “Should we wake ‘em now?” Skeppy wondered aloud, but the other men both shook their heads rapidly. 

“They’re all exhausted, it’s like 3 am, and some of them are hurt. Dream needs to sleep and we need to work on potions. We’ll talk tomorrow.” Bad decides, turning to haul Skeppy off to work on potions with him. Sam tugs on his best armor, grabs his sword and his shield, trident at his side, and settles down against the door. He knows rationally that his home is  _ safe,  _ that it’s probably the safest place in the goddamn universe, but the wild fear on Wilbur’s face had spooked the hybrid and so he settled in to keep guard through the rest of the night. 

  
  



	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter, the Badlands Some more Because they're my favorites. Also featuring, potion making!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK SO HI I NEED HELP WITH SOMETHING.
> 
> I'm working on a new story in an AU where all the DSMP gang are hybrids and I need opinions on what they should be (Besides fundy/ant/techno for very obvious reasons lol). PLS Comment if you have any ideas!!! I'm leaning towards Just having animals, so I need ideas for like Sam and BBH that aren't demons and creepers too lol.

Sam hears Dream wake first and so he turns; the man is certainly stupid enought to get up with over 100 stitches. “Stay down, or Bad is gonna come lecture you on wound care, probably.” Dream sighed but laid back, George stirring a little at the movement but not waking. Techno’s dark eyes are  _ finally  _ closed; Sam had heard him squirming and making pained little sounds until far too early in the morning. 

“Can we talk?” Dream questions, propping himself up. “When Wilbur is up.” A groan from the other bed drew their attention. “M’up, M’up.” Wilbur stands slowly, drags a hand through Fundy’s fur. He leans against the wall near Dream’s bed, in a way that makes it clear he’s keeping Fundy in his line of sight, and Sam feels worry stab in his chest. What the  _ fuck  _ had happened.

They end up in Sam’s room; The creeper hybrid helps Dream hobble over there, leaving Antfrost on guard. “We’re sorry for intruding,” Wilbur says, awkwardly, but Sam shakes his head. “You’re not intruding. You guys needed help, clearly.” He glanced up as Bad came in, passing Dream a healing potion and leaning against the wall. “So, talk, tell us what the fuck is going on please?”

And so they do. Wilbur starts, because it’s his story first, telling them of the election’s results, of running, of finding Techno and Fundy and Quackity. He talks about sending people to find Eret and of those same people returning home damaged and with  _ allies.  _ Sam looks between them and is surprised to find that there’s something like respect in Wilbur and Dream’s eyes when they glance at each other, the malice that had typically been there gone.

Dream picks up where Wilbur leaves off, speaking of finding Techno and the others on the edge of the lava pit, running, the message from Purpled, the desperate effort to flee, the pillagers. Bad made a worried little sound at Dream’s explanation of why he was worried about Purpled, hunching closer to his friend with a concerned sound.

“Ok, here is what we’re gonna do.” Sam takes charge, and he knows it’s bad when Wilbur and Dream don’t even really push back. “Tomorrow, you guys are all fucking resting. We’ll go look for Purpled.” Dream opens his mouth but Sam cuts him off with a sharp hiss. “No. You are hurt. You are RESTING for the love of Prime. If you go, Sapnap and George will insist on going, so Tommy will because he’ll be worried you’re betraying them, so Techno and Fundy will go to protect Tommy, and you’ll all fucking  _ die  _ because half of you are hurt.” 

Dream opened his mouth to speak but the creeper hybrid hissed again, and Wilbur flinched at the sound even though he  _ knew  _ Sam couldn’t explode if he wanted to. “Not. Done. You had your time to speak, please let me. You guys are staying here, the healthy ones can help Bad on potions and the hurt ones need to  _ rest  _ we can’t fight with half of you down. I’ve got a communicator, I’ll keep in contact with you Dream.”

“HOW?” Sam shrugged, eyes flicking nervously around the room as he gives a lower hiss. “Found an old crate of ‘em busted, washed up on the shore. I know they’re against the rules, technically so...that’s the deal.” “Hm?” “We’ll help you, if you don’t take them or throw us out for breaking the rule.” 

To be fair, the odds that Dream would  _ kick them out  _ for that would’ve been low even without a deal, but he nodded, tapped his chest with one closed fist. “You have my word.” Sam nodded, turned to Bad. “Get ready, we’re off in 10 minutes. Make sure Skeppy actually is ready in 15 at most.” 

Wilbur helps Dream back to bed, retreating to Fundy’s bed. “Do you think he’ll be ok?” Dream sighs, shrugs. “I dunno. Sam is the best I know at redstone and mechanics, if it’s  _ possible  _ to track him by his communicator, Sam will be able to do it but if he can’t I don’t know how the fuck they’re ever going to find him.” “He’ll be fine.” Wilbur says, like he’s trying to convince himself. “He’s tough as fuck. He’ll be fine.”

Sam stands at the entryway to his base, flanked by Ant and Bad, Skeppy a step behind Bad. “Ready?” He questions, pulling on his netherite helmet, trident in hand. “Got a signal from this way. Let’s move.” He dove into the river and back out in one smooth moment, taking to the sky trusting his allies to be at his side, and they were.

George took charge of the potion making. Sam’s automated potion maker was too complicated for them to make heads or tails of, so they went manual, Fundy filling bottles with water while Sapnap and Wilbur prepared ingredients and George and Eret brewed. Eret did whatever he was told, methodically adding the ingredients, but when George said to go give the potion to one of the others he actually froze.

They really needed to figure out how to help Eret but he at least wasn’t in agony, unlike Techno. Techno woke up by maybe noon, howling in agony, squirming and whimpering in pain. Quackity and Wilbur had hurried to his side to try and calm the trembling man down, but it was Fundy who hauled his trembling body over and managed it. He draped his own furry body against Techno’s and reached careful hands up to scritch behind his ears, causing the others to blink in surprise when it immediately calmed the pig hybrid.

Things settled down after that; George and Tommy applied another layer of burn cream to Techno’s back and dosed both him and Fundy with a  _ lot  _ of healing potions. Techno joined into the ingredient chopping, moving with a careful precision that shows that he’s done this  _ many  _ times before. 

Sam hurtled through the air again, and again, and again, hands curled defensively around his trident. Skeppy yelped behind him, Bad groaning as he hauled the smaller figure back up with him on his next launch. Sam glanced down at the communicator as he splashed down, Bad and Skeppy landing a bit down the river. Ant landed calmly at his side, flexing his hands out. 

“Ok, I think we’re close...I’m doubting we’re gonna get a closer ping so fan out, keep within eyesight, we know the drill yeah?” The other three nod, heading further down the river as Sam raises his hands to his mouth and starts shouting for Purpled. 

It’s possible that they all forget the tiny fact that shouting makes you very easy to find. Sam and Ant are walking further down the river when Sam’s communicator buzzes to life to the sound of shouting. He doesn’t even glance at Ant, pivoting and launching himself back that way, hissing loudly.

Bad didn’t see the soldiers coming until they were on them. Niki, flanked by half a dozen goons. He didn’t see them until Skeppy was on the ground writhing, a dagger in Niki’s hand, and then he saw  _ red.  _

Sam and Ant turned the corner of the river to see the goons on the ground, Skeppy against a tree panting, and Bad, shield in one hand, just  _ punching  _ the last goon screaming furiously. “You DIE NOW you BAD muffin! You hurt my Skeppy!” Ant drops back to stand over Skeppy, who is still writhing, as Sam hisses loudly but Bad doesn’t stop.

“Bad.” He approaches, grimacing at his friend’s face when he sees it; Sam has only seen him like this, full hybrid, a handful of times and they’re never good. His eyes are pure white, horns visible fangs snarling furiously. “BAD” Sam  _ shouts,  _ lets the commander leak into his voice, and to his relief Bad takes a step back, snarling. “Bad. He’s down. Go help Skeppy.”

Being reminded that Skeppy was hurt was apparently all it too because he nodded, fumbling in his pouch for regen and healing potions, adding in an anti-poison because Skeppy was still writhing. He howled as they were applied to the wound but then immediately quieted, clinging to Bad as the half-demon’s eyes flicker back to their usual color. 

Ant hurries over to help Sam tie the men up, glancing around. “Who got him?” “Niki.” Skeppy answers hoarsely. “She ran when Bad started punching.” Sam nods, finishing tying the last man up. “Alright, Bad, take these guys back and put ‘em in the cells with Skeppy.” “No way, you two can’t stay out here alone.” 

“We need to find Purpled.” Ant cut off the arguing with a glare. “That’s what we need to do  _ right now.  _ THEN we will haul these fuckers back to the jail cells THEN we figure out what we’re doing next.” The usually relatively calm cat hybrid looked  _ furious,  _ teeth bared as he tasted the air. “Blood, this way, c’mon.” 

Ant was glad none of them asked; they knew each other well enough to know what each other were good at, and Ant was a damn good tracker. He hurried along the riverbank, pausing to taste the air again and giving a worried “C’mon kid, I can smell you please be alive.” 

Skeppy was the one who found him, still leaning on Bad. “Down.” He points at the riverbank, fumbling his way down and nodding at the way sand was precisely pushed too high in one spot. Sam dropped down to dig, hissing a little, shoving sand away to reveal a gap. He dropped into the narrow space, glad for his mob blood; he could see better in the dark than most, and he made out a trembling,  _ bleeding  _ shape against the wall.

“ _ Fuck,  _ kiddo.” the creeper hybrid hisses worriedly, dropping down to press a hand to Purpled’s face, grimacing when he felt how warm the child was. “Yeah no this smells like infection. Bad, Ant, help me get him out?” He scoops the limp figure up, making sure to grab the communicator that he’d been clinging to, passing him up to Bad.

The half-demon snarled in horror at the deep puncture wound to the teen’s chest, which was  _ badly  _ infected and leaking pus.  _ “I will kill whoever did this.”  _ He snarled, and no one dared to say no because...reasonable. Sam hesitated; they needed to lock the prisoners up but Skeppy was clearly still too weak to trident back solo and Purpled was  _ out.  _ “Bad, he’s small enough, can you get him and Skeppy?” “M fiiiine.” “You were poisoned ten minutes ago you muffin, you are not fine.”

Bad nodded to Sam’s question. “I’m gonna grab some rope and harness ‘im; I don’t want to drop him trying to catch Skeppy or vice versa but we can get him back.” “Ok, we’ll get the prisoners and meet you back.” Sam hated splitting up, especially since his creeper side would spend the entire time with just Ant being scared to death of the cat hybrid, but it was fine. They’d done worse.

Bad hesitated outside Sam’s base. “Should we bring him to the medical room? I don’t want those other muffins to go immediately murder people but he needs treatment.” Skeppy nodded, helping his best friend undo the ropes holding Purpled to him, before the two men carried the still-unconscious teenager inside.

Dream, rather predictably, was  _ furious.  _ Sapnap and George pinned him to keep him from immediately throwing himself across the room, as Bad and Skeppy quickly worked to drain the abscess that the wound had caused and get it flushed out. Thankfully, the teen was still unconscious, so he only gave a little whine and squirmed slightly at the pain. 

Bad and Skeppy didn’t relax; Sam and Ant were still out there and Niki was gods knew where. Wilbur cursed furiously when Bad explained what had happened, while stitching up Skeppy’s side, before the attention turned to Techno when he made a sound, staring at Purpled. “Yeah Techno?” “I uh...y’know that pickaxe wound was self-inflicted, yeah?”

“...what?” Wilbur asked incredulously. “How can you tell?” “Cause thats the only way he’d have gotten that communicator. Fucking lunatic voided.” Half the room made deeply concerned sounds, while the other half just...blinked. “Tech, explain?” Tommy called. “None of you lot spent a lotta time ‘round Hypixel’s world? ‘S a Bedwars strat; when you’re bein’ rushed and you’re too far out it’s faster to jump into the void and die so you respawn at your base, since they’ve got instant healing an’ all an’ it doesn’t even hurt that much. But doin’ it here is fucking stupid.”

“Why?” Skeppy questioned in confusion, but it was Sam who answered, limping into the room. “Cause Dream doesn’t have instant healing on respawn on. That’s why he’s still got the wound. You heal enough to be  _ alive  _ but it would’ve hurt like hell and I doubt he knows that Dream’s got the respawn anchor here damn near as good as Hypixel’s.”

Now that Purpled was bandaged, Dream hobbled over to lay next to his brother, curling an arm protectively over him. Bad went to fuss over Sam’s sprained ankle, he’d landed awkwardly on one of the jumps, and the room settled back into the sounds of potions being made as Ant quietly grouped the more tactically inclined people; himself, Sam, Dream, Eret, Wilbur, and Techno, since he was trying for two from each group to make everyone represented evenly, to start working on a plan.

Purpled opened his eyes slowly. The searing agony in his chest had died down to just a steady ache, but it was the arm draped around him that caught his attention. He almost panicked, until he felt the familiarness of the weight, of the deep green sweatshirt, of the way fingers scritched over his scalp. “D’eam?” He slurred a little, feeling the arm stiffen.

“Yeah, kiddo. I gotcha. Rest. We’re safe.” Dream promises, pressing his face into the back of his brother’s neck with a worried little sound. “We’ve got you, kid, we’ve got you. You’re safe. We’re at Sam’s base.” Purpled nods; there’s a dozen questions in his mouth but he can’t make any of them work so he just closes his eyes, settles down into his brother’s arms, and sleeps. 


	11. Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans start to come together and I finally get to write some goddamn fluff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're almost done gang! I'm thinking 1-2 more chapters, depending on how long the festival fight next chapter takes. I'll probably revisit this at Some point, so I'm gonna toss it in a series so people can subscribe to see when I inevitably add oneshots to it, but the main story will be done for now! I'm excited to start my modern-AU hybrid story, so I'll probably link the first chapter of that in the notes at the end of this one in case you enjoy and want to check it out. Thank you so much for reading.

“You’re fucking STUPID Dream!” Wilbur’s voice filled the air, causing Purpled to flinch hard, shrinking back against Tommy, who was sharpening an axe. “Ignore ‘em, they’re just fighting over whether we should just charge Schlatt or not.” he grunts. “ I dunno why they’re fighting, we're gonna kick his ass either way the bastard can’t even fight.” 

Purpled snickered, nodding in agreement. Techno was leaning against the wall trying to decide between an axe and a sword, twisting and moving with a  _ frightening  _ level of precision considering he was  _ not  _ fully healed yet. “Someone’s gonna lecture you.” “Yeah, and I’ll remind them that you stabbed yourself with a pickaxe” the hybrid grunted.

Tommy rolled his eyes and went to break up Dream and Wilbur’s argument, or more likely join in, as Techno wandered over to sit near Purpled. “You remember me?” It wasn’t a question. “Yeah. No more Bedwars?” Purpled laughed, but it was tired. “Haven’t had a lot of time recently.” 

Fundy was sound asleep, Eret sitting quietly braiding his hair. “Eret?” Purpled questioned, and Eret glanced up warily. “C’mon, come spar me, Bad said I could spar.” Techno was pretty sure Bad  _ had not  _ said that, but he also was pretty sure the kid was healed enough that it’d be fine and anything that got Eret out of his own head was seeming like a smart maneuver. He was, however, surprised when Eret slowly nodded and took the wooden sword Purpled offered.

It was immediately clear that Purpled was the better fighting, which wasn’t really a surprise to anyone. Eret wasn’t bad, but Purpled moved with a calm precision that Eret’s strikes lacked and he was better at dodging. Techno sat and watched, sharpening his sword and critiquing their movements, offering advice.

Antfrost had seemingly given up on dealing with Dream and Wilbur’s “tactical disagreement” and wandered back in, flopping down on the bed next to Quackity with a groan. Quackity scritched his ears with a soft laugh, making the cat hybrid purr quietly, tail twitching. 

George came in with more potions, and they all tried not to laugh at the glare on the short man’s face when he lectured Purpled on how “fighting when you still have stitches is a really fucking stupid idea.” Purpled grumbled but lay back down. Techno settled down, too, shifting to let Eret braid his hair, mostly because he was pretty sure it was the first time he’d heard the  _ tall as fuck  _ guy  _ ask  _ to do something instead of just silently doing as he was told. 

Wilbur and Dream were still...disagreeing. “Dude, if we try and charge, people will get  _ hurt.  _ Yeah, we’ll win, because we’re better, but can you  _ stand  _ the very idea of seeing one of  _ yours  _ hurt again?” The masked man flinched and Wilbur nodded. “Yeah. We...we have to do something tactical, Dream, we have to get close and then you are  _ free  _ to put an arrow through his goddamn heart.” 

“Ok. I...you’re right. We’ll figure out a stealth plan.” Wilbur nods, shoulders slumping slightly. “Sorry I got loud.” “It’s fine, dude, I know we’re all a little fucked up. C’mon, we need to figure out a point of entry that doesn’t require me to spend a month digging a tunnel.” “You mean making Sapnap dig?” “I would  _ never.”  _ Dream snickers.

“We need to plan what happens after. When Schlatt is gone.” Wilbur nods, leaning back in his chair with a sigh and poking Skeppy, who had slept through most of this meeting. “Skeppy, for the love of Prime, get Sam?” “...Yeah.” He darted off, and returned a moment later with Sam and Bad. Sam flopped down on the ground, leaning against Bad’s legs as the half-demon waved happily to Wilbur and Dream.

“I don’t...want us to go back to how it was before. The constant wars, the threats, thinking the world was going to end every other day, it sucked. All three of our...I don’t want to say kingdoms, so Countries I guess, deserve to be free. Deserve to be  _ happy.  _ That’s why we’re fucking suffering for this, right?” Wilbur’s eyes blazed with righteous anger and Dream nodded.

“Yeah. No more walls. No more wars. People can go wherever the fuck we want and if there’s an issue or a dispute  _ everyone  _ who wants to can help decide on a solution. No governments dictating to people. Not anymore.” Sam spoke up from his spot on the ground, which was apparently where the tall man preferred to sit.

“There do have to still be rules and laws” Dream pointed out. “Not having anything would be asking for disaster.” “So once Schlatt is dead and the immediate threat is gone, we all get together, whoever wants to help, and we make rules.” Bad perks up at that, tail flicking eagerly. “We have some opinions on laws to make sure hybrids are treated fairly.” He glanced down at Sam, who was making a pleased hissing sound as his scales were scratched, and who nodded.

“Alright. I think I speak for all of us when I say that that shouldn’t be a problem.” Bad’s fangs flash as he gives a happy smile, nods, leans back in his chair. “So...what’s the plan? How are we gonna murder Schlatt?” “I maintain we can just wait for him to find us and fall into a death trap.” Sam grunts. 

“I don’t dislike that plan the issue is that Tubbo is still there. Beyond that, he’d probably send goons and not come himself. We need to make _ sure  _ he dies.” “Why don’t we just...go ask for an audience to surrender?” Wilbur questions, leaning back in his chair. “Or Quackity could say he’s caught us.”

“I’m not wild about risking that, Quackity isn’t a fighter and that would put him in a lot of danger.” Dream sighed, and Wilbur nodded. “We did...find something on those guys we arrested yesterday.” Bad spoke up, and three sets of eyes turned to him. “They had a flier for some kind of festival, ‘Open to all.’ I’m pretty sure that doesn’t like...include most of the resistance, but Dream you could probably get in, and no one knows who Techno is. And we have about a bazillion invis potions, Skeppy and I brewed all night.”

“...you said you’d sleep.” “We meant to!” Sam grumbles something about how Bad is sleeping once this meeting is done, but lets the focus return to planning. “Invis potions could work...we need Fundy, though, he’s got a good strategic mind.” Five minutes later, Bad has been swapped for Fundy, who switches places with Sam because laying down is easier on his ribs. The creeper hybrid sends Bad to bed with a glare.

Bad joins Skeppy in the infirmary, falling asleep pretty instantaneously, curled up next to his friend. Techno tosses his cloak over them with a slight huff of amusement. Most of the people in the room are asleep; Purpled is dozing next to Tommy, since the kid only sleeps well with someone else between himself and the door, Sapnap and George have finally given up on guard duty and are asleep in a pile on another bed. Techno is awake, leaning against Eret, whos also awake.

“I’m sorry you got hurt saving me.” “I’m not.” Techno grunts, and Eret blinks. “I can do pain, bruh. I’m a fighter. I’d take the pain to keep you lot from bein’ hurt any day.” “But I deserve it, Techno!” Eret snarls, and Techno halts him with a shake of his head, usually blank eyes flashing. “Nah. you did a bad thing. You gotta live with that, yeah, an’ that  _ sucks,  _ trust me, but you don’ deserve to die. You don’ deserve to  _ burn. _ ”

Eret takes a shaky breath, nods. “You don’t, either, you know.” Techno blinks. “None of us want you to get hurt to protect us. None of us want you to sacrifice yourself for us. Value your own life too, please.” Techno doesn’t respond, just eases himself down so he’s laying on his stomach again, and Eret goes back to staring up at the ceiling, one hand gripping Techno’s wrist to remind himself he was  _ here.  _ He was  _ safe  _ even if he still was pretty sure he didn’t deserve to be.

Fundy finished mapping out where the invisible people should stand, and now there was a  _ spirited  _ debate over who went where. They’d woken everyone up for this, and they were all sitting around the map. “First things first, who DOESN’T want to fight?” Sam calls from where he’s rewrapping his ankle. No one moves. “...lovely. Ok, George and Bad, who’s not clear?” 

They have a silent conversation for a few moments. “Uhhh...who  _ shouldn’t  _ fight or who  _ can’t?”  _ “are those different?” “Yes, because I’m not tying Techno or Fundy down if fighting won’t literally kill them” George mutters. “Ok...bows. We need….seven? Six? Somewhere around there. Fundy, I’m nominating you because we need eyes on the flank and because you are not taking hits with your ribs.” 

Fundy nods, and Sam notes it down as they take more volunteers. “George, got it, Quackity, Wilbur. Ant.” They all nod. “We need...one more.” “Me.” Dream grunts, and all eyes dart to him in surprise. “Really?” “Yeah...you fuckers are better in melee.”

“Alright, Skeppy and Bad, I want you two to focus on evacuating the right side.” “No. I need to end him.” Bad’s tail flickered, his words not matching the smile on his face. “...fine. Me and Tommy take right, Quackity and Purpled you two get the left, and Eret you’ll take Q’s spot shooting. Most of those are gonna be  _ citizens.  _ They need to be protected.” Sam spoke up, and everyone nodded. 

“Who’s killing Schlatt, then?” All eyes darted over to Sapnap and Techno, who gave a wide grin, pig ears perking up eagerly. “To be fair the archers can go for him to, but you guys need to  _ try  _ and thin the herds if you don’t have a fucking great shot on him. Both of you, try and make sure Sam and Tommy and Quackity and Purpled are holding strong  _ before  _ you charge off?” Techno nods, eyes flashing, and Eret leans over, taps his hand.

“Yeah?” “Do not die to kill him.” Techno opened his mouth but Eret shook his head. “No. Do not. You do not have to die to kill him.” “He’s right, dude. We’d rather have you alive and him  _ gone  _ but  _ alive  _ than you fucking dead.” “I’d come back.” “So will he. And it’d hurt.” Techno blinks;  _ he doesn’t understand what the hell they mean, he’s a weapon he’s always been a weapon and no one cares when weapons get hurt that’s why he keeps his perfect  _ but he nods anyways.

“Alright. In two days, we go to the festival. And we free L’Manberg.” Wilbur smiles, nervous but  _ hopeful,  _ and it inspires grins on the faces of everyone else. “Two days. Two days.” Dream repeats, standing and stretching. “Come on, team, time to prepare!” Quackity turned, grinning, to Bad and asked rather eagerly “Can you teach me to throw knives?” “Sure!” Sapnap snickers and makes a note Not to go near that combination, falling into step next to Techno.” “Want to spar?” “Sure.” 

Wilbur leaned against the wall and watched. Sam and Tommy were practicing sparring Quackity and Purpled, the former of whom was throwing wooden knives and getting critiqued by Bad while the half-demon dueled Skeppy at the same time. Techno and Sapnap were back-to-back trying to keep off Fundy, George, Antfrost, and Dream at once, and having more success than he’d expected. 

Eret wandered over to him with the kind of faux casualness that Wilbur had grown to expect, and hate, when it came to Eret, panting a little; he’d just been tagged out of the four-versus-two by Dream. “Are you ready?” Wilbur questioned idly, and Eret gave a small nod. “I...I want to prove to you that I’m sorry. I want to fight  _ with  _ you again, Wil, I missed it.” 

Wilbur thinks about long days of training, of  _ fighting,  _ back-to-back with Eret. It had always been him and Eret, Tommy and Tubbo, and Fundy sneaking around the sides. “I missed fighting with you, too. Take your own advice though, you fucker.” Eret blinks nervously, genuine confusion in his eyes, so after a moment Wilbur takes pity on him. “Don’t die for this. If you die trying to prove yourself to me I’ll punch you.”

He hesitates; thinks of control rooms and fire and castles and crowns. He thinks of Techno hobbling home, draped over his enemies. He watches Tommy  _ laugh  _ as he tries to jump over and surprise the masked man, giving Techno a chance to smack him on the side with his own sword. Wilbur couldn’t help but wonder, had Eret stayed, would they ever have had this? He’s pretty sure he knows the answer is no. 

Bad pins Skeppy with one hand, twisting to throw a fake dagger that smacks straight into Sapnap’s back.” “Bad! No fair!” “...you muffinhead, that was totally fair!” Sapnap drops his sword and goes to wrestle the half-demon, and Skeppy seamlessly takes his place at Techno’s back, yelping in terror as he tries to whack Quackity and Antfrost at once. 

It doesn’t just feel like a tenuous agreement between rivals, anymore, not like it had weeks ago by the campfire. It feels like  _ home,  _ now, like  _ family  _ in a way that really scares Wilbur to death. This feels  _ safe  _ and he’s a little surprised himself when he looks at Eret, who is staring out at the group, and realizes he sees the same feelings reflected in the  _ fucking too tall why is he taller than me _ man’s eyes. 

“You’re family, too, Eret.” He grunts, wrapping an arm around his side and pretending not to see the way Eret blinked away tears, not to feel the way Eret’s arm returned the favor and he  _ clung.  _ “This is what we’re fighting for.” the king whispers, and Wilbur can’t agree more. “We’re gonna win. We’re not losing this. Not for anything. This is what we fought for the whole fucking time, hells, this is why we started L’Manberg this is what we wanted.” 

Wilbur gives a soft laugh, hurting but also so painfully  _ happy  _ that Eret thinks, again, that he would happily die for any of them. “It’s ironic.” Eret whispers, voice soft and careful and afraid, “That it took losing it. Losing that thing we fought for. For...for  _ this.”  _

  
For Tommy to  _ smile  _ as he chased Fundy with a wooden sword, the training kinda...devolving an hour and a half in. Bad and Skeppy were just cuddling at this point, Dream and Techno were  _ still  _ sparring, Sapnap was chasing George shouting “C’MERE GOGY I’M GONNA GET YOU.” Wilbur looks across the room, meets Dream’s eyes, and nods.  _ “We’re going to win for them.” “Yes. Yes we are.”  _


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fight is had!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so, yeah, one more chapter lol. Next chapter is Rebuilding! yay! I'm not super clear how the WAR chapter ended up being the fluffiest chapter we've had so far but I love it lol

Wilbur can’t sleep. He’s sitting on a bed; they’d all curled up in the medical area, no one wanting to be alone. Tommy was sound asleep near Wilbur’s left, blocking the door from having a straight line to Purpled. Techno was closest to the door, and Eret had curled up near him since apparently they were bonding. 

Skeppy and Bad were a tangle of limbs near Techno, Sapnap and George at their side, asleep side by side. Fundy and Quackity had claimed one of the actual beds. Both were asleep, Fundy flopped over Quackity’s lap, the younger man’s fingers tangled in his fur. It was  _ peaceful.  _

Dream was at his side, also awake. Antfrost had been trying to stay up with them, he wanted to make sure Sam actually went to bed, but he’d passed out as soon as Dream had started petting him and now was sound asleep, head in Dream’s lap, purring as the other man scritched his ears. “At what point do I go find Sam?” “Eh...give him another half-hour?” Dream shrugged and Wilbur nodded. 

Sam wasn’t back thirty-three minutes later and so Wilbur hauled himself up. He was  _ tired  _ but he knew he wasn’t going to be able to settle down until  _ everyone  _ else was down and asleep and Sam hadn’t come back the night before, either, which was a little concerning. Wilbur just sort of wandered around the base, which he was starting to think was  _ much  _ bigger than the bits he’d seen, when he finally tracked down the creeper hybrid fidgeting with his potions system.

“Hey, Sam!” “Wilbur.” The  _ annoyingly  _ tall man nodded. “C’mon, bedtime.” Sam gives a tired, amused sound. “Antfrost sicked you on me?” “He passed out ‘soon as Dream started petting him.” Both men laughed. “C’mon dude, tomorrow we fight a  _ war  _ and you need sleep.” Sam opened his mouth to protest but Wilbur kept going. “Plus, Dream and I aren’t gonna be able to sleep without everyone being visibly safe.” 

It might be a little mean to use Sam’s good-naturedness against him, the fact that he’d not willingly let them sit there unable to sleep all night, but Wilbur was tired and desperate and it  _ worked.  _ Sam wandered after him, Dream quietly raising a hand in greeting. Sam settled down near Wilbur, reaching out to pet Ant’s shoulder, visibly relaxing as the cat hybrid purred. 

“Can I ask something, Sam?” “Course.” “Does...the fact you’re part creeper mean that you’re scared of Ant?” Sam snickers, an amused smile on his face. “Not anymore, not  _ most  _ of the time.” He still remembered when Bad, because  _ of fucking course  _ it was Bad, had brought the bedraggled cat man home. Sam had panicked more than a little at that; for a hybrid, his own urges weren’t usually strong and usually had more to do with  _ making things  _ or  _ touching people _ but the cat hybrid had spooked him for  _ days. _

Now, though, he just shook his head, before pausing and elaborating. “Only when he gets spooked and starts hissing. Makes the creeper parts nervous. Besides that, not really. We’ve gotten used to each other.” Ant’s purring settles deep in Sam’s bones and he slumps back down, head landing in Wilbur’s lap without him even having time to think about it. “...Fuck, Right, Sorry. I’m used to it just bein’ my guys around and we’re touchy as fuck.”

Wilbur laughed. “It’s fine, Sam, I don’t mind.” he reached down, slowly, scritched his fingers over the large area of creeper scales on Sam’s back like Bad did when the creeper hybrid got stressed. Sam gave a pleased hiss as Dream spoke up again. “Are you ready for tomorrow?” “I am.” Sam closes his eyes, lets himself doze off to Wilbur’s fingers scritching over his scales and Ant’s purring in his ears. 

  
  


His creeper hearing lets him hear the moment Skeppy squirms awake from a nightmare, and how Bad rolls over, tucks him closer if that’s possible, and both settle back down. Knowing  _ his people  _ are here, all safe, is apparently all Sam needs before he properly closes his eyes and lets himself sleep. 

“How are we on good armor?” “Low.” Dream sighs, glancing around. “Ok, melees get the netherite, that’s Techno, Bad, Skeppy, Tommy and Sam, Quackity and Purpled, and Sapnap.” They nod and start getting ready. “Ranged, we’re on diamond, let’s try not to forget that fact. You all know the plan; no unnecessary risks. Keep your heads down. Try and protect any civilians. And fucking kill Schlatt.” 

Bad passes out regen pots and invis potions as Sam tosses swords and bows to everyone. There are personal touches, too; Quackity snags a handful of Bad’s throwing knives, the rest of which he has. Dream has his crossbow. Sam straps his trident to his back, tossing Antfrost a handful of harming and weakness potions with a smirk. Wilbur grabs  _ two  _ swords, and Sapnap goes for the fire arrows with a wicked smirk. 

“Don’t forget to wait for Sam’s signal to engage.” Bad speaks up. “And make sure to keep an eye on each other. Everyone is fucking coming home from this mission.” Skeppy shouts, ignoring Bad’s sharply muttered “Skeppppyyy, language!” Dream rolls his eyes, nodding for Sam to open the door as they all start out towards L’Manberg. Techno leads, Sapnap at his side; Dream, after two days of trying to spar that duo, is  _ deeply  _ afraid of them. 

They do not talk. Skeppy makes bird calls, because he can’t be quiet for three seconds but at least bird calls wouldn’t get them caught, and Bad quietly mimics them back. They have over an hour of invis potions each, but Dream can’t help the stab of concern that it won’t be  _ enough;  _ there’s a reason they were getting to L’Manberg just minutes before the speech. 

“Oh, fuck, here.” Dream opens his invisible backpack and grabs the very not invisible, once they’re outside of his pack, bandanas, passing one to each of them. They’re near the border, now, only a minute or so into their first potions. “You know the drill; if they’re invis, too, put ‘em on so we don’t stab each other.” That had been Ant’s idea, a good one. 

The archers hang back. Dream grabs Sapnap’s arm, even though he can’t see his best friend’s face. “If you die I am kicking your ass.” He can image the man’s smirk. “Awww Dreamie, you’re worried about me?” He coos, and Dream shoves him with a laugh and turns, starts for the roof.

There are more civilians than Wilbur had expected. He thinks most of them came from the outer towns, though they all look so nervous that he’s not entirely convinced that they weren’t  _ forced  _ to be here because Schlatt definitely strikes him as someone who would force people to come to his parties. 

Schlatt wanders up onto the stage fifteen minutes, two potions, after they’re in position. Well, Skeppy hopes they are; Bad is the only one he knows the location of, because they’re crouched shoulder-to-shoulder near the podium. Schlatt is  _ talking  _ and to be honest Skeppy tuned out five minutes ago, but Schlatt just keeps talking. Skeppy’s muscles burn with a desperate urge to  _ move,  _ to stab that fucking ram, but he waits for Sam’s signal. 

Tommy is watching for Tubbo. He doesn’t see him, and that causes a stab of fear in his chest but at least maybe it means Tubbo isn’t  _ here.  _ Sam is at his side, muscles tense, and Tommy barely hears it when the hybrid whispers “Twenty seconds, kid. Get ready.” 

Wilbur has an arrow pointed straight at one of the goons. He’s acutely aware that he’s never won battles on his fighting prowess, but he’s not a  _ bad  _ shot. He waits, muscles burning in anticipation, until he hears the loud clang of a bell and then

And then the arrows are flying. Tommy and Sam, visible, dart out of their corner, Tommy with a shield up to block an arrow headed for Sam’s head and Sam shouting to the villagers. “Go, that way, down the tunnel, GET OUT.” He glances to his right and sees Purpled and Quackity doing the same, herding the villagers away. 

Sapnap is dueling three men,  _ rapidly  _ losing steam. He curses, takes a step back, raises his shield to block another blow and a potion flies over his head, slams into the men. They all scream, one falling instantly and the other two staggering. “Thanks Ant!” he shouts, not waiting for a response before he dives back in.

Bad and Skeppy fight shoulder-to-shoulder to keep the guards back. The archers are doing their work; the enemy lines are littered with arrows. Bad is nursing a bloody arm from where a sword had snuck through but the man who had caused it was dead to a wildly furious blow from Skeppy. Every once in a while Bad would glance to one side or the other and see an enemy just...drop dead. “Thanks, Fundy!” He calls.

Wilbur shoots till his hands bleed and keeps going. His form is crap; the bowstring has torn his left forearm to pieces and his right hand is bleeding but the arrows, at least some of them, are finding their targets and so he keeps going. He barely noticed a shout from behind him, before he was being shoved down and a shield was coming up to block a blade. He stabbed with the arrow in his hand, hard and fast, until the man fell and Eret’s voice filtered through his panic. “You good?” “I’m good.” Wilbur nods, turns back to firing the arrows, the  _ thank you  _ silent but more than a little feelable in the chill air.

They’re  _ winning.  _ Dream isn’t surprised, not really; he knows that they’re  _ good.  _ At some point the invis potions had worn off and so he watches Techno and Sapnap  _ beating  _ six guys back-to-back, fighting together like they’d done it for decades. Purpled and Tommy were shoulder-to-shoulder, chasing away two men who had tried to go after the villagers. 

The archers had thinned the number of guards substantially. Antfrost, the only person who wasn’t Fundy who was still invisible, ducked and wove, hurtling healing or harming potions at allies and enemies, respectively. They were  _ winning  _ and for a moment, Dream let himself breathe.

And then Schlatt had pulled Tubbo out from his spot behind the throne, for that was the only word for the goddamn monstrocity up there, his sword to Tubbo’s throat.

The world went still. “TUBBO” Tommy shouted, Purpled smart enough to grab his arms before he could bolt and get Tubbo killed. Techno snarled, face vicious. “Let the kid go or I swear to god you’ll wish you were dead.” 

Schlatt just laughed. “You think I’m a fucking idiot? You think I don’t realize I’m not getting out of here if I don’t have some  _ leverage.”  _ he smirked. Bad could see the terror on Tubbo’s face, the way the teen’s eyes hadn’t left Tommy’s, who Purpled was struggling to hold back. 

Bad knew instinctively that the archers weren’t going to be at the right angles; they were all looking straight on and Tubbo was too tall to get a clear shot at the squishy bits of Schlatt. He dropped a hand to his own belt and came up empty, panic searing in his chest. 

Bad turned, met Quackity’s eyes. Schlatt was  _ laughing,  _ saying how he was going to  _ go  _ and  _ take Tubbo with him  _ and  _ if you do anything to me he dies.  _ Quackity’s eyes met Bad’s and in a moment he knew the other man understood, fumbling with his belt. 

The dagger met Bad’s hand. He didn’t make a sound of pain, but it was close, as Quackity shouted “HEY FUCKFACE.” Schlatt twisted to sneer down at his ex-vice-president, raising the sword back to Tubbo’s throat. “Say goodbye to your Tommy, Tubbo.” he sneers. Tommy lunges, breaks Purpled’s grip, and Schlatt’s eyes dart down to him for just long enough that Bad throws his arm forward and lets the dagger in his hand go.

Bad knows  _ immediately  _ that his throw is good. He’s been throwing knives for a decade at least, now; even the rapidly bleeding hole in his hand isn’t enough to throw off his aim and the dagger finds his throat. A moment later, arrows get his shoulder and face, and he looks down to see Techno and Sapnap, bows up and

And Schlatt’s body crumples to the ground. The world stands still for a moment and then Quackity  _ screams  _ in delight “Yes! Yes, he’s fucking DEAD.” And the moment is broken. Tommy  _ sprints  _ for Tubbo, pulling his friend into his arms and clinging to him tightly. Dream and Wilbur and Eret drop down from the roofs to help Sam gather up the incapacitated enemies while Skeppy Shouts “ANT GET OVER HERE.” 

Bad lets Skeppy fuss, because yeah the dagger had gone  _ through  _ his palm and it  _ did definitely hurt _ so he let Ant dump a healing potion on it and downed the regen he was offered. “Here, let me wrap that.” He nods, leans against Skeppy’s side as he watches the others. Techno is sitting on one of the chairs, George appling healing potion to a gash on his leg, while Sapnap is wrapping his own arm. 

Ant settles down near Bad, rubbing cream into his leg where one of his harm potions had clipped himself. “It’s  _ over”  _ Wilbur whispers, slumping down next to them, energy gone. “I...we did it. We  _ did it.  _ It...he’s  _ dead.”  _ Bad nods, leans over to tug Wilbur to his side. “We said we’d do it, Wil, we meant it you silly muffin! Now come on, Sapnap and Quackity are gonna get everyone drunk if we don’t get over there and stop this from turning into an afterparty.” 

Skeppy laughed, standing and helping Bad up. “Quackity!” Bad called, heading in that direction, grimacing at how worried the man looked. “I’m sorry about the dagger!” “It’s fine you silly muffinhead. Thank you.” He tugs Quackity into a quick hug, rolling his eyes to grab Ant’s arm when the cat hybrid hissed. “Shush you touch starved kitten.” Skeppy snickered.

Once the last of the villagers are off, they all gather in the Camarvan. It’s cramped as hell; Bad, Skeppy, Ant, and Quackity had claimed a corner, and as soon as Sam arrived Bad tugged him over to sit with them. Wilbur and Dream were shoulder to shoulder against another wall. The teenagers, Purpled Tommy and Tubbo, were curled up together, too. If techno happened to be sitting at a specific angle to be between them and the door, no one called him out. Fundy sat with Eret, wrapping a stab wound to the king’s shoulder. 

It was silent, for the first time in a long time with them since they were a deeply loud group, but it was  _ peaceful  _ in a way that none of them had really expected. Dream is shaking a little, and George and Sapnap shift to flank him. Bad can  _ feel  _ the shock, the loss of adrenaline from all of them and blood from some of them, setting in so he reluctantly untangles himself from the cuddle pile the Badlands crew had going and goes to make some hot chocolate.

Once everyone who’s awake has a cup, he retreats to his corner, lets Skeppy cling and Ant flop over all of their laps and snickers when Sam fights Antfrost for being in the middle of the pile. “C’mon, you fuckers,,” “LANGUAGE Skeppy” “...sorry Bad.” Skeppy rolls his eyes when Bad isn’t looking and gestures for the others to, as he puts it, “Get your asses over here you’re all traumatized as fuck and we’re good at cuddling.” 

  
They all pass out like that, curled up together. Even Techno gets hauled in, curling up with his head in Wilbur’s lap. Despite the fact that they’re just kind of sprawled, and they’re going to wake up with sore backs, they all sleep better than most of them have in  _ weeks.  _


	13. Meetings

Two days after the fight, because Antfrost had declared “We all need a goddamn break, we’re not planning today” the day before, they gather around a firepit that Tubbo, Techno, and Tommy had made the day before. There had been a spirited debate over whether they should sit by which city/town/bunker they lived in and they’d ended up doing that; the Badlands were, predictably, curled up close to the fire. 

“Are you guys just always cuddling?” “...I mean, yeah?” Ant laughs from his spot against Sam’s side. “Three of us are hybrid types that need touch an’ one of us is Skeppy.” Sam muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously close to “And Skeppy likes whatever Bad likes.” And then yelped as the human whacked him on the shoulder.

Wilbur had claimed another area of the firepit, which was Definitely the fullest. He was sitting with Techno on one side of himself and Fundy on the other. Tubbo, Tommy, and Quackity all sat behind them, whispering and laughing among themselves. Dream, George, Eret, and Sapnap had the last side, but even they looked far more relaxed than usual. 

“Alright, who wants to write out this document?” Wilbur raised his hand eagerly at Sam’s question and everyone laughed, but no one else volunteered so Wilbur found a book and a quill. “Ok, suggestion” Eret spoke up, nervously. “We should...set into stone the details for how we are going to meet up on a regular basis to discuss issues as a group where everyone has input, and then establish like...basic rules?” 

“Yeah, that works.” Dream shrugged. “Why don’t we just make it easy and say every Saturday at like, seven?” “But what if there’s no issues?” Skeppy questioned, blue eyes flashing bright in the light of the fire. Tommy shrugs. “Then we just fucking spar or something for a couple hours. We all need to hang out more anyways.” 

Wilbur was already writing. “Alright, so we all agree to deal with issues  _ as a group?  _ No one is getting murdered or thrown out or whatever, we deal with issues  _ together,  _ yeah?” Fundy says, and everyone nods. “Should we uh...we need some basic rules, right?” Eret questions

“Yes. And number one should be no discriminating against hybrids, non-hostile  _ and  _ hostile-type hybrids.” Sam grunts, giving a nervous hiss as the eyes all fall on him. Ant hisses back, and Bad gives a tiny smile when he realizes that he’s mimicking the way Sam hisses when he’s trying to calm someone down. 

Will writes it down as number one and they move on to other things; mostly “Don’t steal things from people” or “Don’t attack people” or “Don’t burn down people’s houses.” Sam leans back a little in his seat, eyes wide with confusion, Ant and Bad tucking themselves against his side. Sam glances left and right and it’s clear that no one understands the fact that in ten words they had just established the safest civilization for hybrids in...well, possibly  _ anywhere.  _

Sam gives a choked little sound, and Ant scoots closer, wraps his tail around his friend’s arm and gives another low hiss. They hiss back and forth to each other, and Techno has the bizarre question of whether it’s a  _ language  _ or if it’s just sounds. He looks across the circle, meets Bad’s eyes, and he can see the half-demon is  _ just  _ as aware as he is of what the moment means. 

“We need a rule that lets people move between the Badlands and our area and L’Manberg whenever they want. No more boundaries.” Dream calls, and Tommy gives a a call of agreement. “Yeah! And people can builds stuff anywhere, as long as it isn’t somewhere people have claimed already?” Sapnap suggests. “Like, if someone wanted to build by The Badlands area, they should have to check in with Sam or someone to make sure no one is already working there.” 

It’s late by the time they all sign it, and none of them really want to separate back to their areas, so they gather in the community house and bust out the alcohol. Sam was sipping on a drink, dozing against Ant’s side. Skeppy hadn’t drunken at all but since he also hadn’t slept in two days had curled up basically in Bad’s lap and fallen asleep.

Sapnap and Quackity were drinking together with Fundy and Eret in a combination that had gotten louder and louder as the night went on. Dream and Wilbur sat quietly talking, sipping beers and occasionally one of them would start cackling at something the other said. Techno had been sitting by himself, but Sam couldn’t have that so he untangled himself from Ant’s arm and crossed the room, offering a hand to the hybrid.

“Come on, kid.” Techno considered, before taking it to stand, slowly following to sit closer to the other hybrids. He watched curiously as Ant butted his head against Sam’s shoulder, causing the creeper hybrid to give a low hiss. He looked between them quietly; Techno wasn’t sure that he’d  _ ever  _ seen multiple hybrids interact and it was intriguing. 

There was something deeper in the way Bad wrapped his tail around Skeppy’s wrist, in how Ant and Sam hissed quietly to each other in something that felt closer to a language than just sounds and it made him feel like he was  _ missing  _ something. Ant glanced over, softening at the  _ lost  _ look on the other Hybrid’s face. 

He took a risk and leaned forward, butting his forehead gently against Techno’s in the way he’s seen pigs, and cats, do in greeting. Techno instinctively reciprocated, giving a soft little grunt. Ant purred, tugging the other hybrid to sit in between himself and Sam, ignoring Sam giving him his patented “You’re doing that thing where you bring a small fuzzy animal home to play with” face.

“You really haven’t been around a lotta other hybrids, have you?” Techno shook his head, eyes wary. There was a  _ culture  _ here, in these movements and sounds and things that he couldn’t hope to understand and the realization that he was missing so much made him a little dizzy.

“That’s fine. We’re happy to explain anything you need explained.” Bad offers, eagerly, and Techno  _ knows  _ he means well but he’s so  _ overwhelmed  _ that he just makes a nervous sound, soft and huffing. Ant tugs him closer to his side, nudges him gently with his nose, making a low rumbling sound, and it  _ calms  _ the frantic fear in his chest. 

They all fall asleep like, that, splayed in various uncomfortable positions around the room. Wilbur stayed up long after Dream had fallen asleep leaning against his side, taking in the sight of the room around him. George and Sapnap had given up chasing each other and were asleep flanking Eret. Tommy had his head in Wilbur’s lap and an arm around Tubbo, while Purpled was leaning against Dream’s chest; his brother was apparently not fond of letting him out of his sight at the moment. 

It was more peaceful than Wilbur had ever imagined it could be after everything that had happened. Dream shifted a little and Purpled made a quiet sound and both settlers again. Wilbur leaned his head against the wall, closing his eyes and letting the sound of Dream’s snoring, Ant and Sam’s hissing, and Techno’s quiet snuffling sounds lull him to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sooo glad you've all enjoyed this fic :) I've already started the first oneshot and it should be up at some point this week so subscribe to the series if you want to see that!!! An internet muffin to whoever can guess the topic of the first oneshot, I hinted it here :)


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